Frank Downey - Naked In School

When I awoke on Saturday, Eric was still asleep. Knowing he needed the sleep, I padded downstairs to the kitchen, looking for coffee. His Mom was already there. She came over and wrapped me in a hug.

"Mish, I can’t tell you how glad we are you’re here. Eric told us about your little brother. This must be so hard for you."

"I can’t do anything else. I love him. And he has a chance, and a good one. Danny didn’t. I couldn’t do a damn thing for Danny, and I knew that from the start. Eric, I cando something for."

"You are. Just by being here. Do you know that’s the first time he’s slept at allthe night of chemo? That’s because you were there with him."

You know, I haven’t felt as good about myself as I did right at that moment. That’s when I knew, I knew, I could do this. That’s when I also knew, somehow, that Eric was going to be fine. Don’t ask me how I knew, but I did.

Eric woke up, still exhausted and sick, but still managed to give me a big smile. I took him downstairs and cuddled with him on the couch. I made him tea and toast-the only things he could hold down. His Dad came in and we all watched college football-and his Dad made us roar through most of it. His dad is a funny guy. I was supposed to be at a high school football game myself, cheerleading. I didn’t go. Some things are more important. I stayed there all weekend. I stopped into my house at one point. Daddy told me, "I’m fine. You’re where you should be, where you need to be."

At one point, I was lying in his arms, and the words just came out. "For better, for worse; in sickness and in health; until death do us part."

"That sounded like a proposal," he grinned.

"No, silly, that’s your job," I giggled. "Look, I’m counting on all going well. I’m counting on the rest of high school, and college, and then you can make a proper proposal." Then I dropped my voice. "But, just in case-what I said wasn’t a proposal-it was a vow. I just wanted you to know."

"After what you’ve done this week, I already did."

What I found out the next couple of months is that I’m stronger than I thought I was. I also found out all about love, all over again. From Eric, of course-the gratitude in his face that I was there for him spoke volumes. But not just from him-his parents were thrilled I was there. His mother told me over and over how happy I made him, how much of a help I was, and how much they loved me as much as he did. And his brother and sister loved me, too. His sister was 14, and loved having a "big sister" around. And his 10-year-old brother took one look at me and launched into full-blown hero-worship.

It made me think of Danny. It made me think goodthings about Danny. It made me remember how cool Danny was, and how much I loved him.

I pretty much spent the whole fall practically living at Eric’s house. When he was in between chemo, we made wild passionate love as much as we could. When he wasn’t up to that, I took care of him. And it was good. After all that, it was good. I think I helped-and that was really good.

If Danny were here, I think he’d be damn proud of his big sister.

I read back on this now. I wrote those words a little under two years ago. I just found my journal from that year.

It’s late summer, now, and I’m preparing to go back to my sophomore year in college. I go to State. Quite a few of us from the old crowd did. Not all. Jared and Amanda, the brains, went to Princeton. And Mike and Lily both got scholarships to USC. I watched on TV as they led USC to the College World Series championship. Lily not only was the first girl to appear in the CWS, she was the first girl to ever pitch the winning game. A three-hit shutout, even. Mike hit a homer.

But the rest of us are at State-and all the relationships that were fostered by The Program have survived.

Yes, that includes Eric and me.

Eric ended his chemo that November, and has been completely in remission ever since. No trace of the leukemia at all. Every clean bill of health he gets makes his chances higher. Of course, he won’t be considered "cured" until five years. There’s always a doubt-he’s still a few months shy of how long Danny stayed in remission-but the doctors are very optimistic.

After his chemo ended, we managed to spend the second half of our senior year as just another high school couple in love. Well, there were a few exceptions. I was pretty much living with him-not a common situation with kids still in high school. I worried about Daddy being alone-but Daddy had managed to find a girlfriend. Good for him. They got married a few weeks ago, and my stepmother is the coolest.

But, outside of that, we were normal teenagers in love. Did the prom, the whole bit. With chemo over, Eric became stronger-and we made love more often. And it just got better and better.

We came to State and got an apartment together. No separation in dorms for us. Though the prognosis was good, we still knew that nothing was guaranteed, and every minute apart was a minute lost. Eric lost his chance for a football scholarship by not being able to play senior year-but got an academic one. State invited him to walk on to the football team, but he decided not to. "I can think of better things to do on Saturday afternoons," he told me.

There’s no guarantees. There’s no certainties. But I think we’re going to make it-I think he’s going to make it. I like to think I helped. Love’s a powerful thing. I’m glad I realized that.

This story is dedicated to the memory of M.E.P., 1964-1979. We never had the relationship that Eric and Mish have-we were just friends, but I had known her since birth. She never got Eric’s prognosis-she got Danny’s, and beat the odds by a considerable amount by living 2 ? years. But she couldn’t, finally, beat the leukemia that took her life at the horrific age of 15. She’s been gone 24 years and I still miss her.

I ended the story proper somewhat ambiguously. However, in my mind’s eye, Mish and Eric are married. They’re in their mid-thirties. They live in pretty house in Westport. They have a little girl, and Mish is pregnant with their second. Eric’s an oncologist, and Mish taught school for a while before deciding to stay home with the kids. They’re in love. They’re happy. That’s what my mind’s eye sees.

I could have invented that scenario for Mary, but it would have been a lie. I know the reality all too well. So I gave it to Mish and Eric. Because someone deserves it.

If there’s a better reason why I write fiction, I can’t come up with it.

And, so, that is why this is the story I hadto write.

Thanks for reading,

Frank