By the time Ashley’s evening flight touched down in Billings, she had learned a great deal more about the Hospice Program, and even some thing about Lyceum in general that she had not known before. She had read over the mission documents twice, as they contained a carefully worded list of the goals of the mission and the resources that were available to accomplish those goals. But they ended by saying that the members conducting the mission were empowered to modify the goals and the resources used as they became aware of new factors and conditions.
The permission forms that Jenny’s mother would have to sign concentrated on medical care, but also included such things as transportation, education, and recreation. Some had blanks that she or Sister Laura would have to fill in before they were signed. One was specifically about the royalties that would be paid to the estate of the Hospice Program client for any work that was published by Lyceum. Ashley already knew that she could offer Jenny’s mother up to a fifty percent royalty based on income after expenses.
The rest would go to the Hospice Program to pay for the care they had given Jenny and to benefit the program in general.
The connecting flight to Rapid City was on an old propeller-driven plane that only held about twenty people. On that particular evening, it was about half full. Ashley read through the Hospice Program kit one more time, and then closed her eyes to try to imagine how the weekend would go.
Her mother would be at the airport, but she wanted to call Mrs. Pearson —
Sister Laura — right away to find out how the dinner meeting had gone. She knew there would be another meeting tomorrow, probably over a fancy meal somewhere. And only after Jenny’s mother had said yes could they ask Jenny if she wanted to come to Lyceum.
A hint of evening light was still in the sky as the little plane rolled to a stop in front of the small airport building near Rapid City. Ashley shouldered her travel pack and tucked the plastic portfolio case, which contained all the literature about Lyceum and the mission, under her arm. As soon as she pranced down the steps from the plane, she saw her mother, father, and grandmother waiting by the door to the terminal building. She ran to them and shared embraces with the people who had taken her from the uncertainty of being an orphan, a ward of the State of South Dakota, all the way to the pride of being a champion athlete, and a member of a respected service organization for which she was conducting a mission that would have been challenging to many adults.
Finally they entered the building, Ashley with her arm around her mother, while her father assisted his elderly mother.
“Are you hungry, Honey?” her mother asked.
“I’m fine, Mom. I had a piece of fruit on the plane. But I’ve been earning some money, and I want to take you all out to a nice restaurant while I’m here.
It’s just that... I’m not sure when yet. I should know tomorrow. It will probably be on Sunday.”
“Well, my, my! Earning money already!”
Ashley grinned with pride. “I just earned thirty-five dollars this morning in tips while interpreting French at a breakfast banquet and meeting. But I made a lot more than that at the big funeral I told you about.”
“The car’s right out in front,” her father said.
“I need to make a phone call first. There was a meeting earlier, and I have to find out what happened.”
Ashley spotted a phone booth and slipped inside. Her family looked at the pictures and models of airplanes that had been used in South Dakota from the days of the bi-planes to the small jets that now landed in Sioux Falls. Ashley finished her call and rejoined them.
“Sister Laura, she’s a non-resident member who lives here in town, will
stop by our house in about half an hour. I’ve got a bunch of papers she needs to read over. I have to be at Sandy’s for a breakfast meeting tomorrow at nine.”
“It sure does sound like important business,” her father said as they walked toward the car. “Now I don’t want to invade anyone’s privacy or anything like that, but can you at least tell us enough to reassure your mom and I that this mission you’re on is completely ethical?”
“Sure, Dad. There’s no big secrets. I can tell you all about it if I just leave off the names.”
On the short drive home, Ashley described how she had accidentally missed hearing about the Lyceum Hospice Program until that very day. They already knew about her friend at the nursing home who was dying. Now Ashley went into some detail about her friend’s music, and how the program at Lyceum was just for that kind of situation.
Not long after they arrived home, Sister Laura rang the doorbell. She came in for a moment, shook hands with everyone, and Ashley gave her the portfolio and mission documents.
“You’ve read all of it, Ashley?”
“Twice. Some of it three times.”
“So I’ll just bring it to the meeting tomorrow. Why don’t you get there about 8:30 so we can confer before the other party arrives?”
“Okay. Good night!”
“Good night, everyone! Nice to meet all of you!”
“Good night!” Ashley’s parents said.
Ashley’s mother served slices of home-made pie, and they all sat around in the living room while Ashley told about her classes, and her work assignments, and especially about her recent trip to Disneyland. She showed them her Lyceum I.D. Book, and they gave her unending compliments over her French Fluency Credential, her Level One Diplomatic Clearance, and her three mission stamps, the most recent being Cultural Mission #23-2253, her Disneyland demo.
Her father asked if Lyceum always gave her the necessary resources to carry out her assigned tasks, and in answer she showed them the debit card with a ten thousand dollar limit, the three hundred in cash, and the list of
phone numbers and Internet addresses in her I.D. Book that she could use if any problem came up. They were more than satisfied.
“Now, no shopping sprees with that debit card, young lady!” her father warned, half jokingly.
“Don’t worry, Dad. If I did something stupid like that, I’d be throwing away everything that’s important to me.”
He smiled, knowing how dear to her heart was her gymnastics and the traveling that Lyceum was allowing her to do.
“Honey, tell her about your vacation!” Ashley’s mother said to her husband.
“Oh, yes. I told my boss I’d be happy to take a winter vacation this year, so we’ve got two weeks in November. How would you like to show us your new home?”
Ashley practically jumped with joy at the prospect. “It’s beautiful there, even in the winter, and you can see me train in their fantastic gym, and you’ll love the Temple and the chapels, and the food is really good, and you can stay in the Lodge, and there are hot pools...”
“Are the lodge and restaurant very expensive?” he asked.
“For you it’s free! I’ve got twenty days of guest coupons that are good for lodging, meals, recreation, souvenirs, bus fare to and from Portland, everything!”
“With two of us, and two days on the train each way, that’ll work out just right!” he said. “But we don’t want to keep you from your schooling or your responsibilities. We’ll just share a meal with you now and then, and otherwise your mom and I will just kick back and relax.”
They talked until nearly midnight about every little thing from the food that was served at Lyceum to the local politics and gossip of Rapid City.
Finally, Ashley got sheets and blankets and made herself a bed on the couch.
Even though she no longer had her own room, it still felt like home, and she was sure it always would.
Ashley hugged her parents and headed out the door at shortly after eight o’clock the following morning, dressed as respectably as she was able. It had been hard to refuse her mother’s offer of breakfast, but she knew that if she
ate twice, she’d never get back into shape. She had already missed one day of training, and had a strong hunch she would also miss at least Monday. But she was willing to miss many more if by so doing she could help Jenny to fulfill her dream of hearing all seven voices of her song played together before she died.
Sister Laura drove into the restaurant parking lot just moments after Ashley arrived on foot.
“Good morning, Ashley. Are you ready for this?”
“As ready as I’ll ever be.”
They arranged for a large table that would allow them space to spread out their papers, and informed the waitress that they would be ordering breakfast at nine when the third person arrived.
“Now remember, we have to keep everything totally positive with Mrs.
Clark. She can eat like an elephant, but that’s okay if it’s the price of helping her daughter.”
Ashley had never liked watching people gorge themselves. But for Jenny, she’d make herself sit through it. “I understand.”
“I’ve started a list of all the issues we need to come to an agreement on with her. Take a look and see if you can think of anything else, or if you have any questions about them.”
Ashley read through the list. “Calls. She’s going to want free phone or video calls to her daughter.”
“Right.” The non-resident member added it to the list. “That one’s easy with a toll-free number, but it gives us an extra bargaining chip.”
Ashley studied the list further. “I think the idea of her making a royalty on Jenny’s music will really be the thing that breaks the ice. Maybe we should, you know, save it for last, when everything else has been agreed to but she’s still dragging her feet.”
“Good idea. I hadn’t thought of that.”
“Brother Clyde said that we should start by offering her thirty percent, but we can go as high as fifty percent if we have to.”
“That’s good to know. Here she comes now.”
Ashley had to take a deep breath and use all her self-control to avoid letting her feelings show on her face. Mrs. Clark was simply the fattest and
ugliest human being Ashley had ever seen. The dress she was wearing could have served as a tent for Ashley, and her shoes resembled bulging buckets that did nothing but contain her feet and legs, if that’s what her lower extremities could be called. She half waddled, half limped through the restaurant, already eyeing the pies and cakes behind the counter. But her eyes were shifty, and didn’t stay on anything for more than a moment. Ashley felt sick... and made sure it wasn’t showing on her face.
“Good morning, Mrs. Clark!” Sister Laura said, rising and extending her hand.
Ashley stood up also, and realized that the immense lady was only about her height. She was glad that was the only thing they had in common.
“This is Sister Ashley Marie Riddle, the champion athlete I told you about who is willing to sponsor your daughter. She just flew out from Portland, Oregon last night to meet with you and hopefully with your daughter also.”
Ashley shook hands. The woman’s grip was oily and sweaty.
“Please sit down. We haven’t ordered yet.”
“Someone is picking up the tab, right?” Mrs. Clark asserted.
“Everything’s on me,” Ashley said.
The waitress brought menus, and the huge lady immediately picked out two of the most expensive breakfasts: steak and eggs, and a crab omelet.
Ashley couldn’t believe that one person could even hope to eat so much. She herself ordered a light breakfast and a glass of juice, and then rechecked her face for neutrality.
“May we begin by showing you some pictures that Sister Ashley brought with her from Oregon? You will find the facilities most beautiful.”
“Sure. Just let me sip this hot chocolate. I haven’t had anything yet this morning.” She proceeded to drain the cup.
Ashley placed pictures in front on the lady. The gardens, the Temple, the Recreation Center all received only a glance. The Dining Hall was studied intensely, especially the smaller picture showing an elegant dinner being served in the Garden Dining Room.
“Now my main concern is that my dear precious daughter not be taken away from the love and support she gets from her mother.”
Ashley could have easily burst out laughing. But she didn’t.
“If my daughter is going to be in this program of yours, she’ll need me to be there a good part of the time.”
The Lyceum members were prepared for this demand.
“As we understand it, you visit your daughter about once a week now,”
Sister Laura said. Ashley knew even that was stretching the truth. “But as your daughter’s condition worsens, we can understand that four days a month may not be enough. Your daughter’s sponsor would like to pay for one week each month of free lodging and meals at Lyceum so that you can give your daughter the emotional support she needs. With that, of course, comes your bus and train fare to and from Rapid City.”
Mrs. Clark was obviously uncomfortable that they knew how little she visited her daughter at the nursing home. But she took it in stride. She was getting a good deal, and she knew it. But she saw some space to stick in another wedge.
“But what about the other three weeks? How can my daughter be expected to hold on unless she can hear my voice?”
At that moment their food arrived, so they suspended their conversation while Mrs. Clark dug in, the victuals obviously more important than the question she had asked. She also required several special condiments and another cup of hot chocolate. Ashley nibbled at her egg and small piece of ham.
When it looked like the large lady was again ready to pursue the discussion, Sister Laura spoke. “You’re right. That is too long to go without contact. Would you be comfortable, Sister Ashley, with providing Mrs. Clark with a toll-free number so that she can call her daughter as often as she likes?”
“That would be okay,” Ashley said. “Even better, we could arrange for Jenny’s room to be near a televideo so that they can see as well as hear each other. There’s a televideo booth just a block from your house, isn’t there Mrs.
Clark?”
“Um, yes,” she said in a moment of honesty, temporarily disarmed by the flavor of crab and Swiss cheese.
About when Mrs. Clark was through one breakfast and about halfway through the second, she began to slow down. Ashley took the opportunity to show her more pictures of Lyceum. She didn’t seem interested in reading
anything. Both members wondered if she knew how.
When the second breakfast had been completely consumed, Sister Laura attempted to begin talking about the Hospice Program itself. But it wasn’t quite time yet — Mrs. Clark needed a piece of pie à la mode in front of her.
Only then could they begin to explain the program and show her pictures of the Hospice Center.
“Now during my visits, I don’t want to be bothering the other patients...”
she said after glancing at pictures of the kind of room Jenny would have.
“Oh, we understand completely,” Sister Laura said, knowing that she would actually prefer to not go anywhere near the place. “Sister Ashley, would you show Mrs. Clark the Lyceum Lodge again?”
“This is a typical Lodge room,” Ashley said. “Very comfortable, private bath.”
“Bathtub?” she asked, finishing her pie.
“Well,” Ashley said, “most of them have showers... but I think we can promise a bathtub, since we’ll know in advance when you’ll be coming.”
There was no way in Hell that Ashley was going to let her have one of the hot tub rooms.
The waitress wandered by.
“Didn’t I see some chocolate cake?” Mrs. Clark inquired.
“Yes,” the waitress said. “Would you like that with hot fudge sauce?”
“Please. And ice cream.”
Ashley checked her face.
By the time the large lady had finished her chocolate cake, a strawberry milkshake, and a dish of pudding, it was nearly eleven o’clock, and Sister Laura had checked off all the items of substance on her list as being basically acceptable to Mrs. Clark.
“Well, as it appears you’re comfortable with all aspects of the program, Mrs. Clark, wouldn’t this be a good time to go to the nursing home and see how your daughter feels about the idea?”
“You know, I feel bad about asking my daughter to leave her home town.
She’s grown up here. This is all she knows.”
She’ll be glad to get out, Ashley thought. “Sister Laura, did you tell Mrs.
Clark about the royalties yet?”
“Royalties?” the huge lady said, her interest peaked, her eyes shifting quickly from one member to the other.
“No. That completely slipped my mind. Sister Ashley has heard your daughter’s musical composition, and believes it has good sales potential.
Lyceum will be able to market it through bookstores and music shops and its own catalog. We have a copy of the Lyceum Catalog with us, don’t we?”
“Yes,” Ashley said. “Here it is. Everything in our catalog is available both at Lyceum and through mail order.”
Jenny’s mother glanced at the catalog. “How much would I get, I mean to keep for Jenny in case she gets better?”
Ashley wanted to vomit.
“We are usually able to offer thirty percent of all profits to the client or her estate, which would be you, her mother, in this case,” Sister Laura said.
The fat lady looked thoughtful.
“But since Mrs. Clark is being so helpful,” Ashley said, “I think we could manage forty percent in this case. The rest has to go toward the program.”
“Well... royalties... that sounds very good, for Jenny, I mean.”
“May we give you a ride to the nursing home, Mrs. Clark?” Ashley said.
“Gosh. It’s almost lunch time. Shouldn’t we get a bite first?”
“Excellent idea!” the Children’s Librarian said before Ashley had a chance to say anything. She could tell the younger member was getting near the end of her fuse. “Sister Ashley, have you been to LeRoy’s Steak House recently?
They have an excellent lunch selection, and a very nice salad bar.”
“No, I haven’t,” Ashley said, getting out her debit card to take care of the ridiculous bill they had just accumulated at Sandy’s.
“Would that be to your liking, Mrs. Clark?”
“That would be very nice,” the large lady said, trying to get up. Sister Laura assisted her while Ashley paid the bill, and gave the waitress a ten dollar tip from her cash envelope.
At about 1:30 they finally arrived at the Rapid City Convalescent Center.
Ashley was very glad the air conditioning had been fixed. The nurses and assistants greeted Ashley with fond memories of her volunteer time with them. Few volunteers ever came back to visit, much less to do what Ashley
was about to do.
Jenny was thrilled to see Ashley, but only a few carefully chosen words passed between mother and daughter.
“Honey, this lady has something to tell you about. It’s something that will be very good for you, and we’ve worked it out so that I’ll still be able to call you and visit.”
“Shall we go out on the porch, get some fresh air?” Ashley asked Jenny.
“Sure!” the young girl said, a smile on her face at just being able to see Ashley again.
“I’ll wait in the Living Room. It’s the only place with comfortable chairs,”
the girl’s mother said.
Sister Laura went with the large lady to deal with any concerns she might choose to raise.
Out on the little porch, where Ashley had first heard the beautiful music that Jenny could play, the two girls got comfortable, Jenny in her wheelchair, Ashley in a folding chair beside her.
“Thanks for coming to visit me!” Jenny said. “I know you probably have lots of other people you want to spend time with.”
“Nope. On this trip, I’m just here to visit you.”
“Really? How come?”
“Because I discovered that Lyceum has a Hospice Program where you can live in a place a hundred times nicer than this, and it has all the musicians and technicians and equipment you’ll need to produce your music even if you can’t play the recorder anymore. And your mom has already said it’s okay!”
“How did you talk my mom into it?”
“Promised her part of the profit if your music sells.”
“That’s my mom! But... how could you sell my music?”
Ashley showed her friend the library case with the music disk and booklet inside, and she explained how Lyceum published all kinds of books and disks, both through stores and through their own catalog.
“You mean, my song would be on a disk, and people could just send you some money and you’d send them one?”
“Yep. Or they could order it from a music store.”
“Wow!” Jenny’s eyes were sparkling for the first time in many days.
Ashley proceeded to show Jenny all the pictures of Lyceum she had brought, especially of the Hospice Center and the Audio Production facilities.
Jenny’s smile got bigger and bigger.
“And I’ll be able to see you in the gym?”
“Uh huh. Everything at Lyceum is walking distance to everything else, and you can go anywhere in a wheelchair!”
“And I won’t be taking up too much of your time?” the ten-year-old asked with a worried look on her face.
“I don’t work in the Hospice Center, but there’s always someone there to help the residents with things. There are only about eight other people in the program. I’ll visit you, or you can visit me, almost every day! You can even eat meals with me in the Dining Hall. And you’ll make other friends there that you can spend time with too!”
Suddenly a coughing fit took Jenny, and she couldn’t say anything for the next couple of minutes. She looked very tired when it finally passed. At last she managed a whisper. “When can I go?”
Ashley smiled and hugged her. “First you have to go inside and tell your mom that you want to live at Lyceum. Are you ready?”
Jenny breathed for a few moments, gathering both physical and emotional strength. Finally she refound her voice. “Ready.”
Ashley tucked her portfolio under her arm and pushed Jenny inside. They found her mother, still in the Living Room of the nursing home talking to Sister Laura.
“Well, you took long enough!” the huge lady snapped at her daughter.
Jenny cringed. Then remembering the company she was in, Mrs. Clark softened her tone. “Have you thought about it, Honey? Now, don’t let anyone push you into something you don’t want to do...”
Ashley left Jenny several yards from her mother. She didn’t know how close they wanted to be. She sat down in a chair a little ways away from everyone else, thinking neutrality would be good at that moment.
Jenny looked at Ashley.
Ashley gave her a slight smile. “It’s up to you, Jenny.”
Jenny shuddered at the difficulty of what she had to do. Then she closed her eyes and took several deep breaths. At last she opened them, and began
rolling her wheelchair toward her mother. She stopped just inches away, and Mrs. Clark was obviously uncomfortable with the closeness.
“Mother, I want to go to Lyceum with Ashley. If I can’t do anything else before I die, I want to go to Lyceum with Ashley.”
Ashley let out the breath she had been holding.
“Okay, Honey. I’ll sign the papers. How soon will her place be ready?” she said, looking at Sister Laura.
Both Lyceum members knew that Mrs. Clark had played all her aces and was feeling herself the winner. It was their turn to play their hand, although they knew it was designed to leave the huge lady believing that she had come out on top.
“We have a reservation for a special wheelchair-accessible bedroom on the train out of Cheyenne tomorrow evening. I’ll need tomorrow afternoon to drive Sister Ashley and Jenny down there. That will leave this evening and tomorrow morning for Jenny to say good-bye to friends. To accomplish all that, you will need to sign her out of the nursing home’s care and into our care as of noon tomorrow.”
Jenny’s eyes almost bulged out of her head at the prospect of leaving so soon, but she stayed silent.
“Mrs. Clark, may I take Jenny down to the ice cream shop on Main Street while you and Sister Laura are doing the paperwork?” Ashley asked.
“Sure. Now,” she said, turning to Sister Laura, “let’s make sure that forty percent is down in writing.”
Ashley interrupted one more time. “And shall we plan on six o’clock, all four of us, at the Red Lion for dinner?”
Ashley and Jenny laughed and talked all the way to the ice cream shop.
Jenny had not felt so wonderful and free in years. Ashley told her friend all about the breakfast meeting and the things they had had to promise her mother. Jenny predicted her mother wouldn’t use the privileges much because it was so uncomfortable for her to travel.
Over sundaes Ashley told Jenny about all the fun things there were to do at Lyceum, leaving out those that would not be possible for Jenny. More than anything else, Jenny looked forward to the Audio Production facilities, where
Ashley said there were instruments and computers that even people without hands could use. But she also sparkled when Ashley described the movies that were always being shown, the Theme Gardens with their seemingly endless paths, the Planetarium Theater where there were several shows daily on everything from geology to ballet dancing, and the relaxing hot pools, with one right in the Hospice Center, where Jenny could play in bubbling water of any temperature she liked.
When they returned to the nursing home, they learned that Sister Laura had driven Mrs. Clark home so that she could take a nap before they picked her up again for dinner. Sister Laura soon returned, and the three of them looked over all the paperwork that Jenny’s mother had signed.
“As of noon tomorrow, you will be in our care, Jenny,” Sister Laura explained. “The home has a going-away party planned for you tomorrow at eleven. You should be all packed by then, as we have to head for Cheyenne shortly after noon. Ashley, can you help her with that today and tomorrow morning?”
“You
bet!”
“I want to remember to get my recorder from the Nurse’s Station!” Jenny said. “It’s the most important thing in the world to me, even though I can’t play it anymore.”
Sister Laura left to do some shopping, first entrusting to Ashley all the mission documents and permission forms that Mrs. Clark had signed. In Jenny’s room, Ashley discovered that her friend had few belongings to pack.
A nurse brought out of a store room the same suitcase with which Jenny had arrived almost two years before. Everything still fit inside, except the recorder.
Soon a nursing assistant arrived to bathe and dress Jenny for dinner.
Ashley watched, as she knew that once they were on the train, she would be Jenny’s only helper. The nursing assistant explained that caring for Jenny was easy, as she only needed help getting into and out of the bathtub, and could even walk with a strong person at her side.
At 5:30 Sister Laura arrived, and Ashley was able to walk Jenny out to the car with little effort. Mother and daughter still had few words to exchange, so
during dinner, Sister Laura spoke about the things that Mrs. Clark might like to do when she visited Lyceum that would not involve Jenny. The massive lady paid some attention, but most of her mind was on the free and plentiful food at her fingertips. Ashley had a broiled chicken breast and salad, and Jenny, out of pure loyalty to her friend, had the same thing. For the third time, Ashley took care of the bill with her debit card.
Ashley said good night to a very happy ten-year-old when they returned to the nursing home, a ten-year-old who was counting the hours until she would be on the road out of Rapid City, South Dakota, the town where she had been born, raised, diagnosed, and trapped without the means to fulfill the one dream that was left within her abilities.
Ashley wanted to get home to invite her parents and grandmother out to breakfast the following morning. She was sure it would be a much more pleasant breakfast than she had had that morning. And after spending some evening time at home, she wanted to visit Julie and laugh and talk and play computer games until midnight or one in the morning.
Breakfast the following morning, after attending the early Mass at their church, was very special to Ashley. They went to the nicest place in town that served breakfast, and everyone loved the food and the atmosphere. It was the first time that Ashley had paid the bill. And it was with her own money, not the cash or debit card from Lyceum.
Ashley packed her clothes and took leave of her parents and grandmother at ten o’clock that morning. The pain of parting was made bearable knowing that her parents would be coming to Lyceum in less than three months. She walked to the nursing home through the cool morning air, pack on her back and portfolio case under her arm.
After stacking her small burdens beside Jenny’s suitcase, Ashley helped to set up for the party. Jenny’s mother had been invited, but had said that she didn’t want to bother the residents. Hearing that, Ashley and Jenny looked at each other, and both smiled.
There was a large cake, and a smaller cake made specially for the diabetics.
There were balloons and streamers, and a large card that many of the staff members and some of the residents had signed. Jenny was only on friendly
terms with a few of the residents, and with those she shared parting words and hugs.
At 11:30 Sister Laura arrived, had a small slice of cake, and exchanged pleasant words with the staff and residents. Then she collected Jenny’s medication list and remaining supplies from the nurse, and called Brother Kenneth at Lyceum.
As noon approached, Ashley slipped into Jenny’s room, checked all the drawers again, and carried Jenny’s suitcase, the little recorder case, and her own things out to Sister Laura’s car.
At exactly noon, with permission from Jenny’s mother on file, the two Lyceum members signed the card that formally acknowledged the transfer of responsibility for Jenny’s care to them. Jenny waved good-bye to the residents and staff, and rolled herself out the front door.
Ashley helped her into the front seat while Sister Laura collapsed the wheelchair and put it in the trunk. As the car pulled out of the parking lot of the Rapid City Convalescent Center, Jenny glanced back once. Only once.
“What would you like for lunch?” Sister Laura asked as they drove down the street.
“Something they never have in the nursing home,” Jenny said.
“What’s that?” Ashley asked.
“A
cheeseburger!”
Ashley laughed out loud.
“But not here,” Jenny said. “I don’t want to stop until we’re far from Rapid City. And I have to take a pill first, don’t I?”
“Nope,” Sister Laura said. “I’ve talked to your new doctor, and he wants you to drop all your medications. He wants to evaluate you without any drugs in your system, and he says none of them are particularly important for just a two day trip.”
They didn’t stop until they came to the little town of Edgemont, South Dakota, not far from the Wyoming border. There they found a little cafe that made the best cheeseburgers Ashley and Jenny had ever tasted.
Chapter 10: One-Way Journey to a New Realm
“Hello again!” the ticket man at the train station in Cheyenne, Wyoming said as Ashley stepped up to the counter with Jenny rolling along at her side.
“Still speaking French?”
“I have an advanced French class three times a week, and I do some interpreting once in a while. Just did some last Friday.”
“Didn’t you say you were twelve? I thought kids couldn’t take foreign languages until high school.”
“I learned French in Europe, and my classes are college level,” Ashley said with complete nonchalance, generally unaware of how different her life had become from the average twelve-year-old.
Jenny looked at her friend with renewed wonder and admiration.
“Well, I’ll be,” he said. “I hope you’ve got your tickets, ‘cause tonight’s train is about as full as they come.”
“Our reservation was called in. A Special Bedroom to Portland.”
“What was your name?”
“Ashley
Riddle.”
He tapped at his computer keys. “Yes, here it is. Hasn’t been paid for yet.”
Ashley handed him the debit card. “Is that near the Lounge Car?”
“Hmm. Let me see... Nope. Three cars away. But I might be able to switch it — there’s one Special Bedroom on each car. And that’s about the only thing available on this train. I can get you one car away...?”
“I’d really appreciate it if you would.”
“Your meals will be brought right to the room, you know.”
“Yeah, but we’d like to be able to get to the Lounge Car easily.”
“But the wheelchair can’t go upstairs...”
“I know. She can walk with my help.”
“Good. Okay, I’ve got you switched. Just enter your card code... thank you. Here’s your receipt, and your boarding pass.”
“Thanks!”
Ashley
said.
“Thank you!” Jenny said.
“You’re welcome. Have a nice trip!”
Ashley and Jenny shared fare-well hugs with Sister Laura, and then found their train car. The almost elderly conductor put out a ramp for the wheelchair, and as soon as he showed them their little bedroom, Jenny rolled up to the window and looked out.
“My very own window! All the way there?”
“Sure is,” the conductor said.
“I’m Sister Ashley Marie, and this is Jenny,” Ashley said, extending her hand to the train man.
“Welcome aboard, Sister, and Jenny,” he said with increased respect.
“Here’s a dinner menu. A fellow from the dining car will be by to take your order as soon as we get going.”
“Thanks!”
Jenny waved to Sister Laura through the window until the train started moving and the non-resident member headed for her car. “She sure is nice.”
“Yeah. You have to be to get into Lyceum.”
“You mean my mom couldn’t get in?” Jenny said with a smirk.
Ashley laughed. “I have a friend who’s fifteen who’s got some rough edges, but she’s working hard on them. Of course there are visitors there all the time, and some of them can be really terrible.”
“Visitors? How many?”
“Depends on what day. Not too many on weekdays. Saturday gets heavy.
Sunday is the max with one or two thousand. They come for the big service we put on in the Ecumenical Temple, and usually stay for lunch. But they can’t go into the Residence Halls or the Hospice Center.”
“Good,” Jenny said, and looked out the window. The houses and buildings of Cheyenne were rapidly thinning out. “You know, I’ve never been on a train before.”
Ashley could remember saying the same thing less than a year before.
A young man from the kitchen arrived, and both girls ordered baked salmon. While waiting for their dinners, Ashley figured out how everything in the room worked, got Jenny out of the wheelchair and into the fold-down seat by the window, collapsed the wheelchair, and folded up the table under the window in preparation for their meal. The young man soon returned with their trays.
“Thank you!” Ashley said, and handed him a tip from her cash envelope.
“Thanks!” he said, and smiled.
The shadows cast by the hills and bluffs became long, and orange sunset light kindled the tops of the mountains as the two girls ate their dinners, gazed out the window, laughed about the events of the last two days, and talked about the future. As Jenny was quite content to look out the window that would be hers for the entire trip, Ashley didn’t bother to suggest they go to the Lounge Car. She knew it would be crowded at that hour anyway.
Not long after darkness fell over the Rocky Mountains, Jenny began to nod. Ashley folded down her bed, helped her to use the toilet, and said good night.
“Good night, Ashley. You’re the very best friend I’ve ever had. My mom may get the profit from my music, but it’s going to be dedicated to you!”
Ashley smiled. She turned away before Jenny saw the tear that was threatening to roll down her face. As soon as Jenny was asleep, she slipped out to the Lounge Car, and over a root beer float pondered everything that had happened since Friday morning. Most of the things that had happened made her smile. Her hours watching Jenny’s mother eat everything in sight almost made her cry.
When the root beer float was empty, she had come to only one definite conclusion. She was no longer just a young gymnast from a small town looking for a gym.
The train quickened its pace and began to eat up the miles of the Snake
River Valley as the sun peeked over the Rockies behind them and the two girls sat in their Special Bedroom eating scrambled eggs and diced ham. As soon as Ashley had helped Jenny wash and dress in fresh clothes, they locked the door and Ashley kept a strong arm around her frail friend as they ascended the steps to the coach above, and then made their way along the narrow aisle to the Lounge Car.
“Fantastic!” Jenny said as soon as she saw the huge windows that even curved into the ceiling. They stayed in the Lounge Car right up to lunchtime, looking at the scenery go by, reading magazines, sharing goodies from the snack bar, and playing video games, at which Jenny had no skill at all and just giggled while her characters died. Boise, Idaho, the largest city Jenny had ever seen, came and went.
“Whoopee!” Jenny cried, bouncing up and down in her seat when they passed the sign that said Welcome to Oregon. “I never want to go back. I never want to leave Oregon.”
Ashley didn’t share Jenny’s feelings about South Dakota, but she thought she could understand them, especially after sharing three meals with her mother. She felt sorry for Sister Laura. She had had to share four meals with the fat lady.
“Can I learn things at Lyceum? I haven’t gone to school since I started living in the nursing home. Learning things isn’t supposed to be important for someone who’s dying, I guess.”
“Sure you can!” Ashley said, remember the Educational Opportunities section in the Hospice Program kit. “You can go to any class you want to, and there’s a library full of things, and there’s the Planetarium Theater and the Museum, and there are Laboratories where a friend of mine works.”
“I’d like to learn about the stars,” she said.
“There’s an Astronomy Lab, and lots of telescopes.”
“Really? I’d like to learn where my music comes from.”
Ashley had to think about that one for a moment. “I’m not sure anyone knows. You might have to study religion.”
“Yuck! Church was totally boring at the nursing home.”
“It’s not like that at Lyceum. You’ll see.”
After eating tuna salad sandwiches in their room, they gazed out their
window as Eastern Oregon rolled slowly by, sometimes talking, sometimes sitting in silence. Ashley told Jenny all about the Oregon Trail, as they had been following its route ever since they got on the train and would continue to do so for the remainder of the trip. Jenny was fascinated, and completely in awe of all the knowledge that Ashley possessed.
The ten-year-old was glued to the window when they began to parallel the Columbia River. There were speed boats having races at one place, sail boats gently tacking this way and that farther down, and thousands and thousands of birds floating on the water where it moved slowly.
“Will the doctors at Lyceum tell me if they find out I’m not dying?” Jenny asked out of the blue as they were looking at the dinner menus.
Ashley was almost shocked by the question. “Of course!”
“Sometimes I’ve wondered if my mom just paid the doctor to make it all up so she’d be rid of me. The only problem is, I can’t figure out where she’d get the money to bribe them.”
Ashley squeezed in the seat beside her friend and wrapped her arms around the sad girl. “No one at Lyceum is going to lie to you about anything.
I promise you that!”
“Thank you,” Jenny said, looking right into Ashley’s eyes. “I believe you.”
As the sun slowly lowered itself toward the horizon and the train snaked along the banks of the river westward, Sister Ashley Marie Riddle of Lyceum, twelve years old, and Jenny, who would have claimed no last name willingly, but was at that moment ten years old and had little hope of seeing eleven, both ate their teriyaki chicken dinners in silence, both happy in their own ways, both wondering what the next weeks and months would bring for them.
Jenny was reluctant to leave the Special Bedroom for the last time when the train finally stopped at the Portland platform. She lovingly touched the window that had been just theirs for the entire trip. She felt the material of the seats that transformed themselves into beds at night. She washed her hands one last time in the tiny sink beside the toilet.
Ashley had their luggage ready to go out in the corridor, and most of the other passengers who were getting off had already done so. When everyone else was off, the conductor put out the wheelchair ramp. “Time to go, Sister,”
the conductor said, only remembering the title, not either of their names.
Ashley dug in her purse and found a ten dollar bill. “Come on, Jenny. Our conductor is waiting.”
Jenny reluctantly rolled herself out the door. The conductor carried their bags down to the platform while Ashley guided the wheelchair. Then she handed the conductor the ten dollar bill.
“Oh, no, Sister, I couldn’t. Better to put the money toward the people who need it,” he said, gesturing toward Jenny, who was looking the other way.
“Thank you. That’s where it will go,” Ashley said.
Then she joined Jenny on the platform in the evening light. “Welcome to Portland. It’s even bigger than Boise. Let’s go find our ride!”
They soon ran into Brother Chad, a middle-aged man with curly hair whom Ashley recognized but did not know much about.
“Hello Jenny,” he said, kneeling down to her level. “Did you have a good trip?”
“Yes.”
“I hear you’re a musician. I am too. In fact, if it’s okay with you, I’ll be helping you to play and edit and publish your music.”
“That would be wonderful! As long as I get to see Ashley sometimes too.”
“I think there will be plenty of time for that... unless you want to work on your songs all day and all night!”
Jenny
laughed.
Brother Chad carried the big suitcase and guided them to a Lyceum van parked nearby. They stopped at a garden supply shop on the way out of town, and Jenny was like a child in a candy store, smelling all the flowers, touching all the paving stones, looking with delight at the painted concrete Elves and deer and mushrooms. Brother Chad loaded his purchases and they continued their journey.
Jenny, sitting in the front seat between the two members, was crying and smiling all at the same time as they turned into the front entrance to Lyceum just as the sky was darkening. Brother Chad did not drive them directly to the members’ parking lot, but pulled into the unloading loop in front of the Welcome Center. Without exchanging a word, Ashley understood.
The twelve-year-old member walked beside as Jenny rolled herself
through the archway and onto the Main Plaza as fast as she could, still crying with tears of joy. The gentle, indirect outdoor lights were on, all the Theme Garden walkway lamps, and many of the trees even twinkled with little bulbs.
Only about thirty people were out strolling.
“I don’t ever, ever want to leave!” Jenny whispered.
Then the ten-year-old started asking what all the different buildings were, and where all the different paths led, almost faster than her guide could answer. As Ashley spoke, she slowly pushed Jenny along.
Finally, when Ashley thought Jenny had seen enough of the plaza, and she was showing signs of curiosity about what was inside the buildings, she pushed the wheelchair up the ramp and in through the open doors of the Main Lobby.
Inside, Jenny was again mesmerized, and Ashley told her where all the corridors led, and Jenny looked long at the sculpture and fountain in the center of the huge room. Eventually they arrived at the Information and Assistance counter.
“Hi, Brother Paul!” Ashley said.
“Hi,
Ashley!”
“This is Jenny. I just brought her back from Rapid City to be in the Hospice Program. Brother Chad has the mission documents and permission forms.”
“He already brought them in, and has taken Jenny’s suitcase to the Center.
Your pack is in the office, and Brother Kenneth wants you to bring Jenny to the Clinic so he can meet her.”
“Okay. I’ll get my pack later.”
“Nice to meet you, Jenny!” he said.
They headed down the corridor.
“This is the Gift Shop, and over there is the Art Gallery,” Ashley explained as they passed. “And up here is the Healing Arts Clinic. I think Brother Kenneth is going to be your doctor. My friend Liberty says he’s really gentle and easy to talk to.”
“I hope so. And he won’t lie?”
“Why don’t you ask him, and decide for yourself?”
Jenny thought about it as they entered the waiting room.
“Hello, Jenny. Did you bring Ashley in for a check-up?” Brenda asked with a smile.
Jenny
laughed.
“Actually, after all the restaurant food I’ve eaten this weekend, I might need one!” Ashley said.
Jenny laughed again, even louder, and the sound told all who heard that cares and fears were falling from her shoulders.
Hearing all the laughter, a man stepped out of a back room. He was dressed in casual sports clothes and looked like he was about to go to a movie or out for an evening snack. He sat down in the chair nearest Jenny.
“Hello, Jenny. I’m Dr. Kenneth Partlow. I understand you have cancer.”
“That’s what they told me. Will you tell me the truth?”
“I certainly will. Will you always tell me the truth about how you feel, in your body and in your heart?”
Jenny was disarmed. She felt an intense and genuine caring coming from this man, this doctor. She nodded.
“Good. I know what your diagnosis is, but we’re going to start from scratch, if that’s okay with you, and make our own diagnosis and decide together, you and me, what your treatment should be, if anything.”
Jenny smiled at the respect she was being shown.
“As I understand it, you have some music you’ve been trying to perform on your recorder. I already spotted a problem with the medicines you were taking as soon as Sister Laura listed them for me on the phone. One of them is very good at slowing down cancer, but has the side effect of causing lots of fluid in the lungs and so lots of coughing. After we find out for sure what’s happening inside you, then you and me can sit down and decide what medicines you should take, if any, that will still allow you to do what you want to do.”
“I won’t really mind dying, as long as I can play my music first.”
Brother Kenneth was speechless for a moment. “Jenny... we could all learn from your courage. Would you be willing to spend tomorrow morning here in the Clinic so that we can do all the tests and take all the samples we will need to make our own diagnosis?”
“Sure. Will you be here, Ashley?”
“What’s tomorrow? I’ve lost track!”
“Tuesday,” the doctor said with a smile.
“I can eat breakfast with you, but then I have four classes in a row.”
“Wow! I guess I’ll be okay with Doctor Kenneth.”
“And then I can eat lunch with you, and you can tell me if he’s a good doctor or not!” Ashley said with a grin.
“Okay. I’ll see you at eight o’clock tomorrow, Jenny,” he said.
“Thank you, Doctor Kenneth!”
“Thank you for your honesty and your courage, Jenny.”
They said good night to Brenda, and Ashley pushed Jenny on toward the Hospice Center.
The patio lights were low and it was very quiet, save for the sound of splashing and trickling water in the fountains. Jenny’s eyes were big but she said nothing as Ashley slowly pushed her around the Hospice Center so that she could glimpse the little gardens and ponds, the colorful and well-stocked arts and crafts rooms, the cozy social rooms, the spacious wheelchair-accessible kitchen.
When they had completed their tour, they noticed a large man backing out of one of the rooms on the perimeter of the building. He was carrying a meal tray.
“Good night, Mrs. Watanabe,” he said.
“Good night, Clyde,” an aged oriental accent said from within.
He turned and saw the pair coming, and without the slightest surprise or discomfort performed a sweeping bow and said, “Good evening, ladies.
Permit me to set aside this tray, and I’ll meet you in the office.”
Jenny giggled. “He’s funny!”
Ashley was glad he had so quickly broken the ice with Jenny. They entered the softly-lighted office and he joined them a moment later. They all gathered at the same round table that he, Ashley, and Heather had used to plan the mission three days before.
“Do you work here at all hours?” Ashley asked.
He chuckled. “I’m just here now because I knew you ladies would be arriving.”
“You have a nice office!” Jenny said.
“Well, it’s really not mine. Everyone who lives or works here uses it at one time or another. It will be your office too.”
“Really? At the nursing home there was only one place I could go to play my songs, and that was outside. I almost froze in the winter.”
“I can think of a dozen nice inside places you can go here at Lyceum, at any hour of the day or night, to play as much as you want. Ashley can help you find them. And you can play in your room during the day. I understand Brother Chad will be helping you with some of the technical aspects.”
“Yep. He drove us here from the train station! And Doctor Kenneth is going to diagnose me tomorrow morning!”
“That’s at eight,” Ashley said. “But I’ll come by a little before seven and take her to breakfast.”
“Okay. Now I need to tell you about the most important rule here, Jenny.”
“I don’t mind rules. I’ve had lots of them.”
“The rule is, if you need something, you have to ask. I don’t mean ‘ask’ as in permission, because you can have just about anything you want. I mean
‘ask’ as in letting us know what you need. We’re not a nursing home, and we don’t do anything automatically. There’s always someone here to help, but we don’t read minds. If you have to get up at a certain time, and you need help setting your alarm, you have to ask. If you need help taking a bath or shower, you have to ask. If you want to eat a meal at a different place or time than everyone else, that’s fine, but...” And he motioned for Jenny to complete the sentence.
“You have to ask!”
“Right! Is that rule okay with you?”
“Sure. It sounds fair, too. I don’t read minds either!”
Brother Clyde laughed. “Well, it’s almost ten o’clock. Would you like to pick a room?”
“I get to pick?” Jenny said, incredulous.
“Yes. We have twelve empty rooms, but one of them’s a double, and three have some special equipment that you don’t need. So really you have only eight choices.” He walked over to a computer and tapped at the keys. “I’ll jot down the list of rooms and Ashley can help you get settled.” He returned and
handed the list to Ashley.
At that moment a lady in her twenties came into the office. “Am I interrupting?” she asked.
“Not at all — I need to introduce you. Jenny, this is Sister Carolyn. She’s one of about ten people who work here. Jenny’s a musician, and she’s going to live here.”
“Hi,
Jenny!”
“Hi!”
“Sister Carolyn will be here ‘til midnight. I’ve had a long day and want to go to bed. Any questions before I turn into a pumpkin?”
Jenny giggled at his fairytale allusion. As no questions were forthcoming, he rose, bowed, and exited with a flourish.
Sister Carolyn sat down at the computer. “Let me know if you need anything, girls.”
“Okay,” Ashley said, and proceeded to push Jenny out into the patio. She looked at her list. All the rooms had the names of trees. “Hmm. This one’s free. It’s called Rowan.”
“Are there any that are, you know, a little ways away from other people?”
“Let me see...” Ashley looked at the list and then looked around the courtyard. “How about Juniper. It’s over here between these doors that lead outside and this supply room. That way no one can be right next to you.
Would you like that?”
As they approached, Jenny looked up at the sign on the door. It was a carved and stained wooden plaque that had the name and the image of the tree.
“Juniper,” she said almost to herself. “It’s a pretty name.”
Ashley pushed the door open and touched the light switch.
“Wow!” Jenny breathed, rolling herself in. She at first completely ignored everything else and went right to the back wall of the room that was completely glass. “At the nursing home the window was too high and I couldn’t look out of it,” she said, gazing at the trees and ferns just outside that were illuminated slightly by a nearby pathway light.
Then she turned and began to explore the room. First she saw the little couch and matching upholstered chairs, with a coffee table between. “It’s like
a tiny living room!” She rolled over to the bed and touched it. “Just like in a real house — no stupid cranks or railings!” Then she saw the kitchenette with it’s small sink, refrigerator, and stove, all placed low for wheelchair access. “I can make snacks and invite you over!”
She looked in the closet and felt the wood grain of the book shelves. She touched the smooth top of the little desk and peeked in the drawers. She opened a door and discovered with surprise that she had her own toilet and sink and bathtub, all with plenty of grab bars to hold onto. She tried the light switches and found that they could be as bright or as dim as she wanted.
“Well, do you like it?” Ashley said, nearly bursting with happiness for her friend.
“I
sure do!”
“Do you want to look at any others?”
“Nope!”
“I’ll go get your suitcase. It’s in the office.”
Ashley was back a minute later. Remembering what Brother Clyde had said, she helped Jenny get ready for bed only to the extent that Jenny asked her to. After Jenny crawled into bed, they said good night to each other, and Ashley was about to step out the door when she heard her friend’s drowsy voice.
“Ashley, would you set my alarm clock?”
Chapter 11: A Momentous Summer Draws to a Close Ashley slept fitfully after the intense activity of the weekend, but went to her Exercise class early and stayed late to try and make up for her lost days of training.
Jenny was wide-eyed and full of curiosity as Ashley pushed her to the Dining Hall for breakfast on her first full day at Lyceum. Even though Ashley couldn’t introduce Jenny to everyone, as she herself only knew a fraction of the members’ names, she wanted Jenny to feel that she could make new friends. To that end, Ashley selected several persons to introduce to Jenny.
Shawn and the quiet twelve-year-old boy named Brian were among them.
Jenny had never before experienced such warmth and respect as she found all around her that morning. She was reduced to giggling embarrassment when she told Ashley she had just accepted a lunch date with Brian for that day, and one on Thursday with Shawn.
After Jenny’s first family-style breakfast in years, Ashley delivered her to the Healing Arts Clinic, and after hugs and well-wishes, headed for her classes.
As Ashley’s G.E.D. preparation class neared its end and the noon hour approached, she felt an intense need for a break from people. She knew she had to fill out some forms detailing her expenses during the weekend, so she dashed to the kitchen, made herself a salad, and walked quickly to the office.
There, after a little help getting started, she worked alone at a computer for
the entire hour while munching on her vegetables. It was just what she needed. She got all her reports done, felt refreshed, and was very happy to learn that the balance in her cash envelope and debit card account correlated with her reports.
She went to the gym nearly an hour early, warmed up, and by the time Tabitha and Karen arrived, was well into her routines. By dinner time she felt she could again face Jenny and others, knowing that her own life was back in order.
At dinner, Jenny was happier than Ashley had ever seen her... except perhaps when playing her music.
“Brian said he’d eat with me a couple of times a week, maybe more, and I met a nice lady who said she’d take me on walks, and there’s a lady in the Hospice building, the one who paints, who said she eats dinner in the garden right there in the building and I could join her any time I wanted!” Jenny explained as Ashley passed platters of food and served herself and Jenny.
“Neat! Starting next week I’ll only be here for dinner on Wednesdays
‘cause I’ll have a gymnastics class to coach.”
“That’s okay. All the doctors were really nice, but they had me do a million things! There was a doctor who twisted me and made my bones crackle, and there was a lady who had me smell different jars, and there was a lady who took samples of everything, and Doctor Kenneth poked at me and had me tell him what it felt like. I’m supposed to go there again on Friday.”
“Wow! That’s even more than they did to me!”
“And then Brian showed me where the Audio Production place was, and the curly-haired man was there just like he said he would be, and he showed me all around, and let me try different instruments, and then his computers took the little tunes I played and changed them around lots of different ways.
He said he’s going to make a recorder that I don’t have to blow into that’s hooked right to his computers!”
“Hey! That way you won’t get tired and start coughing!”
“Yeah, and he said he’s really looking forward to hearing my song!”
“What are you going to call it?”
Jenny was silent for a long time. “Gosh. I don’t know. It wouldn’t be much of a song if it didn’t have a name, would it?”
“You’ve got plenty of time to think about it.”
Jenny’s mood became more solemn. “Doctor Kenneth said he’d tell me on Friday how long he thinks I’ll live. He said the herb lady has some things I can take that are almost as good as the pills I used to take, but wouldn’t make me cough. And he said my hair would start getting thicker. That’ll be so nice!
I don’t want to be ugly when I die.”
Ashley could understand. What she couldn’t understand was where the courage came from that allowed a ten-year-old girl to think about her own upcoming death so calmly. Ashley knew Jenny looked up to her in almost every way imaginable, but she wished she could somehow tell Jenny how much she, Ashley Riddle, was learning from her younger friend.
“Our tests show that you do have cancer, Jenny. Based on the size of your tumors, the longest anyone has lived with your type and stage of cancer is eleven months. But that was a large, hale man using every drug possible. My best guess is that if you take cancer-retarding drugs, you will see next spring.
But you will lose most of your hair, and you will be coughing almost constantly toward the end. If you use a few less-effective drugs and some herbal combinations, you can avoid those undesirable side-effects, and my best guess is that you will die sometime during this winter. Those are only guesses. No one has the power to know for sure when you will die.”
Jenny was looking at the floor in the middle of the circle of people who were assembled that Friday. Ashley sat close beside Jenny on one side, holding her hand, and Brian sat close beside her on the other side. Sister Heather was there, and Brother Clyde from the Hospice Center, and Brother Chad from Audio Productions. Also, Sister Marscha the Herbalist was there and one other doctor. Jenny started crying.
Everyone sat respectfully, most gazing at the floor, powerless to provide more than superficial comfort to the dying girl. After a few minutes she stopped crying, wiped her tears onto her sleeve, and looked at Brother Chad.
He sensed what she needed to know.
“Jenny, I think I can get your instrument finished within a few days, and then it will take you a few more days to get used to it. I believe the primary recording of the different voices will go very quickly, as long as you remember
them clearly...?”
“Yes,” she said in a whisper.
“I think we’ll have all the voices in the computer in two or three weeks, a month at the most.”
Jenny brightened considerably.
“But then we will begin the task of putting them together into one symphony, and I’m sure there will be plenty of timing problems to work out, possibly some key or mode shifts. I think that will take us another month, maybe as much as two.”
Jenny’s temporary elation faded. It was early fall. She had two or three months of work to do before she could hear her music... and let other people hear it. She would die sometime during the winter unless she used the drugs that would make her hair fall out. She glanced to her side, and Brian smiled at her. She didn’t want to lose her hair. The most important thing was finishing her music, but almost as important was keeping her hair. Then she realized that the herb lady was talking.
“...and I can think of several things we can try during that time to improve Jenny’s quality and possibly length of life, including several herbs that have only been recognized recently as having an effect upon cancerous tumors, several dietary improvements over the nursing home fare she was receiving, and even some hydrotherapy options. I wouldn’t be surprised if we succeed in giving Jenny a little more time without introducing any side effects.”
“We can try anything that is reasonable and is okay with Jenny,” Brother Kenneth said, “and monitor the growth of her tumors.”
Suddenly Jenny knew what her decision was. “I’ll work as fast as I can on my music, even at night if I have to, but I don’t want to be ugly when I die. I want to grow my hair back.”
After a moment of respectful silence, Brother Kenneth said, “We will work with that as our guiding policy unless Jenny changes it. Brother Chad, if other responsibilities of yours become a limiting factor, I suggest you arrange to have those responsibilities transferred to others.”
“I will,” he said. “But you have to understand, Jenny, that creative work cannot often be hurried. You might find that even if you tried working on your music late at night, you wouldn’t have the clarity and the insights
necessary to make any progress. But we’ll certainly make it our first priority and move along as fast as we can.”
“Thank you,” was all Jenny could think of to say.
September began with a promise of continued fair weather, although the morning dews were heavier and a few of the deciduous trees had begun to change color. For two weeks Liberty had been going to the Small Animal Barn to check on Penny the ewe, sometimes when she knew Jason would be there, and sometimes when she knew he had classes or work elsewhere. She was really getting to like the place, and was starting to get a feel for the care that the other animals who lived there needed, especially the llamas, deer, and tortoises. The ducks and geese she would leave to others.
Liberty had sunk her teeth into every aspect of her class and work schedule. She was now progressing through the BEGINNER-4 program in the flight simulator, and had personally wound two layers of wire onto the armature of the generator that her Helicopter Maintenance class was rebuilding. Sister Erica had watched with an eagle eye, and had pronounced the layers of wire perfect.
All during August she had reserved spaces on her calendar for the Aeronautics and Navigation classes she would be able to start in September.
The day finally arrived.
In her Aeronautics class she received another textbook, and looked forward to working her way through it at about twice the rate of most of the other students. At first she thought the day’s lecture on bird’s wings was a little silly, but by the end of the hour, she had a whole new respect for the feathered bipeds and a humble understanding of why the human race had so far been unable to duplicate them, from the simple designs of the late Middle Ages to more recent computer-controlled attempts.
Her Navigation class met that week in the Planetarium, where a sky full of stars was projected and each student worked with a hand-held planisphere to locate constellations and individual stars. It seemed easy at first, but then the teacher would shift the entire sky sixty or ninety degrees and ask everyone to find their target again within ten seconds, or he would cause a jagged cloud to drift across the sky as the students moaned and groaned, trying to pin down
reference stars even as they disappeared from sight.
But probably Liberty’s favorite times were her evening swims, when she would stretch her sleek and attractive body out in the water and make it glide gracefully along. She usually ended with a relaxing dip in the hot pool, where she could laugh and talk with other members about funny or frustrating things that had happened to them that day. She knew she could have any one of ten or twenty different men for lovers who obviously appreciated her youthful body. But she wasn’t in a hurry, and she wanted to choose carefully... and the boy in the Small Animal Barn was at the top of her list.
By that first Monday in September, Ashley had made up her lost training time and was feeling very good about her emerging elite skills. She didn’t think she would ever bring home medals for her vaulting, but in the other three events the sky was still the limit.
Her only problem was when to eat dinner.
On Mondays and Fridays, she would have three hours of her own gymnastics in the afternoon, then the beginning class she would be coaching, then French, and finally Ballet, it all ending at nine p.m. Tuesday and Thursdays weren’t so bad as she had no French, and on Wednesdays there was no Beginning Gymnastics to coach.
Luckily Sister Shannon had looked at Ashley’s schedule on the computer and was aware of the problem. As soon as the three elite girls finished their conditioning at 4:55 that first Monday, the lady coach brought a plate out of the gym refrigerator that held a wrapped sandwich, cup of yogurt, and carton of juice, and thrust it at Ashley. “Gobble this. Your class is arriving.”
“Thanks!” Ashley said, well aware of the danger of not bringing up her blood sugar right after conditioning and getting some protein soon after that.
Ashley had a bit of a shock when her class had finally assembled. She had been working alongside experienced gymnasts for so many years that she had forgotten what it was like to be completely new. The class was an intensive, four-meeting a week training program that was for serious students only, but it was still Beginning Gymnastics, and the full implications of that fact confronted Ashley in the form of five young girls in street clothes, sitting on the bench in front of her. One was slouching and one had a severe case of
banana-back. A third looked like she couldn’t crack a smile if her life depended on it. Ashley was also aware of several parents watching from the spectator’s area.
One of the girls looked six, three looked seven, and one looked eight.
Ashley was glad they were young. She had seen so many girls try to start at ten or twelve. With very rare exceptions, they never got anywhere. She was also glad to see that none of her students were over-weight. She could see Sister Shannon doing things inconspicuously nearby. Ashley knew she would be available whenever needed, but it was primarily Ashley’s class.
Ashley looked at her students again. They looked scared. That fear had to go. This had to become their second home. Ashley sat down on a nearby folded mat. “Hi! I’m Sister Ashley. What are your names?”
They sat in timid silence.
“Okay, we’ll play a game. I’ve got a pile of stuff in the office for you. If I get a name, you get a gym bag. If I get a smile, you get a leotard. If you tell me your favorite food, you get a pair of sockies!”
Three of the girls immediately grinned.
“Okay, there’s three leotards.”
“I’m Brandy. I like ice cream.”
“Brandy, you are now equipped for the class!”
“Amanda. Peanut butter.”
Soon, realizing nothing was going to happen otherwise, they all gave names, smiles, and favorite foods. Two of the smiles were a little forced, but they would have to do.
“Okay. Which of you wants to be a gymnast?”
Five hands went up.
“Which of you wants to someday be an excellent gymnast and go to meets and exhibitions?”
Five
hands.
“Which of you have changed clothes in a locker room before?”
One
hand.
“Okay, we’ll start there. Follow me!”
Ashley grabbed the box of supplies out of the office and led her little troop into the locker room. She showed them how to program their locks, and then
passed out the equipment. While they worked up the courage to undress in front of each other, she spoke.
“A gymnast in training always arrives at the gym several minutes early, and is in her leotard and other gear by class time.” All the things she told them she remembered from her own training, with additions from her own experience. “A gymnast is proud of her strong and graceful body. You’re going to feel naked in your leotards anyway, so you might as well get used to it. The ancient Greeks did all their gymnastics naked, even when performing in public.”
Talking openly about nakedness seemed to break the ice. They were soon all undressed and trying to get into their leotards. One got hers on backwards, but just giggled and tried again.
When they returned to the gym, Ashley noticed that Sister Shannon was talking to the parents, reminding them of their responsibilities in support of their daughters’ training. As they were walking by the spectator’s area, Ashley choose to emphasize a couple of points that parents sometimes missed. She turned to the girls, who were all feeling naked and trying to stretch their leotards to make them cover more than they would.
“What does a gymnast have in her stomach when she arrives for class?”
“Very little!” they repeated together.
“Right! How many leotards does a gymnast bring to class?”
“Two!” they said.
As she and Sister Shannon had planned, Ashley took part of that first hour to get them familiar with the gym and its equipment, having them all touch and feel the four apparatus and learn their proper names. Then she did some basic work with them on posture as they all lay flat on a mat. The slouch would be easy to correct, but she knew the banana-back would take longer.
She had each stand in front of a mirror while she worked with their shoulders or hips.
“There!” Ashley said as each one finally achieved a graceful stance. “That’s what you have to learn to do!”
Two of them had never seen themselves looking so good, and grinned with delight.
Ashley ended the class with a little speech. “I can tell you’re not used to
someone else touching your bodies. But that’s what a gymnastics coach has to do. I’m in here three hours a day, five days a week, and my coach is a man who has to touch me every day. And at least once a week, when I’m trying something new, I have to trust him to spot me and keep me from hurting myself, maybe even killing myself. That’s what gymnastics is all about. See you tomorrow, in your leotards.”
The parents obviously had questions for Ashley, but Sister Shannon rescued her. “Coach Ashley will be available for questions after class on Tuesdays and Thursdays. Today and Friday she has another class she has to run off to.”
Ashley flashed her senior a smile of gratitude and dashed for the locker room, slapping hands with Karen and Tabitha who were arriving to coach the intermediate class.
In contrast to her perpetual comfort in the gym, Ashley felt quite lost in her first Depth History class.
“The final Islamic advance into Hindustan was led by the Timured Babar, a descendant of Genghis Khan and Timur, who had been master of Kabul since 1504. Using artillery and conquering Agra, he decisively defeated Sultan Ibrahim Lodi of Delhi in the 1526 Battle of Panipat...”
She tried to locate the place names on her map, but by the time she did, the teacher was much further along.
“...Humayun attempted to preserve his father’s empire. However, he was defeated in 1539 at Chaunsa and in 1540 at Kanauj by the Afghan usurper Sher-Shah, who established an interim empire of short duration.”
The names were beginning to all sound the same.
“The second conquest of India was led by the thirteen-year-old Akbar, the greatest of the Mogul emperors. Hindu rebels were defeated by the regent Bayram Han in the second Battle of Panipat in 1556...”
Ashley arrived at the end of the hour a bundle of nerves and sweat, wondering whether or not to cry. But as soon as others began to leave, the teacher sat down across from her.
“You look fried.”
She nodded, her eyes already moist.
“You know, Lyceum classes aren’t like regular college classes, where you either have to learn at a certain speed or flunk. Brother Keith eats this stuff up, and already has sixteen credits in Depth History. Brother Caleb has been in the class for two years, and doesn’t have a single credit. He just loves to sit back and listen to me talk. You can choose the level that’s right for you. My suggestion is that you just listen for a month or two, follow a little on the maps when you can, read up when something interests you. Maybe in a year you’ll find you’re ready for a unit exam and some credit. If not, no problem.”
Ashley breathed a sigh of relief. She tried her teacher’s suggestion the following week and was much happier. Also, to her surprise, she found she quickly became better able to find the place names on the maps. She also found that after once hearing the name of an old kingdom or city and seeing it on the historical maps, she could always recall when and where it had existed.
And increasingly, as time passed, the historical vignettes they were studying did interest her and she did read more about them in the large array of supplemental history books available in the classroom and in the library.
Shawn and Brother Jacob had gotten into the habit of spending time together every Friday morning right after Shawn finished Choir practice.
They had so far met outside, taking along a light snack and finding themselves a quiet garden.
“Anything new this week?” Jacob asked, as he usually did.
“No new classes or work or anything like that. Liberty and Ashley started some new classes this week, but my Physics class only accepts new people quarterly, so I have to wait until October. Oh, but Sister Rachael wants me to free up a weekend to go with her and Sarah to a bunch of galleries in eastern Oregon.”
“Are you looking forward to that?”
“Yes. I don’t like missing the inspirational service, but I guess the choir will survive without me once in awhile. And I’ll get to see lots of new places.”
“Does your Aerobics class seem to be building up your breath for singing, as you were hoping?”
“I think so. I want to start doing a little jogging too. I went out on the fitness trail once this week, and I want to start doing it two or three times a
week.”
“I could stand to do a bit of that now and then myself. Feel free to drag me along.”
“Okay!”
“Last week you were feeling a little short in the friendship department.
Any improvements?”
“Just in attitude. I’ve pretty much let go of my earlier thoughts about Liberty. But sometimes I still have to find some extra prayer time after running into her.”
“My friend, that’s true for a fairly large number of males here at Lyceum, and I’m sure that has happened everywhere she’s been. But please remember: that doesn’t make her a bad person, and it causes her a corresponding problem.”
“What’s
that?”
“Any male companionship she ever attempts to find has a high probability of being shallow and short-lived precisely because so many men appreciate her body... to the exclusion of all else.”
“I see what you mean.”
“It’s also a good example of how Deity has so arranged the universe that every virtue is also a vice, and every vice holds a hidden virtue. You know her well enough to know that she is, in addition to being beautiful, a very deep and vastly intelligent person.”
“Yes, she is,” Shawn said thoughtfully.
There was a long silence as they nibbled on cheese sticks and crackers.
“I was wondering...” Shawn began, “I mostly took Greek so I could understand the Bible better. Can I do a residency in Greece when I get fluent, or do I have to learn a different language to do one?”
“Sure you can. We have a mission support office in Athens, and I believe it will soon be upgraded to a campus planning office. Now if you had taken Latin, you would have a problem!”
Shawn
laughed.
“And Greece is an excellent place to study Christianity, both contemporary and its ancient roots. And it is a rich land of beautiful and gentle people, with a very civilized European feel to it. You’ll like it there, I warrant.”
“I’m looking forward to it, after hearing your impressions.”
“Let me see... what else are you doing that’s been challenging... we talked about Lab Procedures last week. That still coming together for you?”
“Yes. We learned how to use the radiation scanners this week. I couldn’t believe how much energy there was all around us, and that doesn’t count the ultimatonic energies, which I can’t wait to learn about in Physics. From what I hear, a lot of scientists are thinking we finally found the power lines directly from Heaven.”
“Very interesting, aren’t they? Timeless, weightless, positionless, and yet they seem to be conveying vast amounts of energy through space.”
“You’ve studied them?”
“Just a little. We’ll compare notes after you start physics. Let me see... oh, yes, how are you faring in the Children’s Program?”
“It was scary at first. I grew up an only child. But I think I’m getting the hang of it.”
“You have six to eight-year-olds, don’t you?”
“Right. Boy, do they have a lot of energy! And some of them are really smart. I usually do the science experiment part of the shift, and sometimes they ask questions I can’t answer.”
“Children are like that, my friend. In fact, that’s one of the reasons we have children, as best I can figure it. And after you have master’s and doctoral degrees, children will still be asking you embarrassing questions. Get used to it.”
Shawn
smiled.
“Are you finding enough time for your own personal worship and prayer?”
“Oh, yes. That comes before eating and sleeping for me.”
“Good. Anything bothering you or stressing you that we haven’t talked about?
“Well, just that I realized it’s time for me to make a certain decision. Every time I go into my computer files, I notice that it still says ‘undecided’ for my mentor. I haven’t decided until now because, when I first met you...” Shawn fell silent.
“I can handle it. Part of being a Lyceum member is being able to take criticism.”
“It was just... your beard. No one in my church, I mean my mom and dad’s church, had beards. They were like... considered evil or something.”
“An interesting lesson in the nature of Good and Evil.”
“Yes. And now I see how silly that kind of thinking is, and how much I like talking to you and how much I trust you. I’d like you to be my mentor, Brother Jacob.”
Brother Jacob was silent for awhile. Shawn never knew how much that moment meant to the aging member until he himself began years later to be a mentor to others.
“I am honored by your request, Brother Shawn,” Jacob finally said. “I accept, and hope that I can remain worthy of that honor.”