Amy’s my best friend, I once read in a half finished letter that my roommate, Mel, left on the table. She’s a junior doctor too, and we’ve known each other forever. She talks a mile a minute, can’t shut up to save her life and she spends so much time in the hospital she practically has no other life. She can never do enough…
I had stopped there, it felt weird to read what she thought of me like that. Can’t shut up to save her life, can never do enough. Those two sentences, I had thought, completely summed me up.
It’s funny how things change sometimes.
*
“The bad news is you’re not going to get to that party next Friday,” I told Jill, and watched her face fall with pity. She had been hoping that she could for weeks, but her treatment was still ongoing.
“The good news,” I said almost immediately. “Is that you’re not on any special diet, I get a half day on Fridays -I’m bumping off in a while, my fiancé is going to be out of the country come Monday and the DVD player in this room works. So I’m proposing I order a pizza and we have a girl’s night in.”
Jill smiled. “You wouldn’t mind?”
“Of course not,” I said, shaking my head and smiling. “Sounds like a plan?”
She nodded. “Definitely.”
“Awesome.” My beeper flashed on my belt and I checked it.
“I have to go, but we’ll talk ‘kay?” I said. With a “bye”, I hurtled to where I was needed.
“What’s up?” I asked Dr. Finley, who rubbed his tired eyes.
“Mandy’s operation didn’t work,” he said with a grimace, looking into the ward window. I stared at the girl in the bed, and my stomach plummeted. She was even sweeter than Jill, innocent and shy at sixteen. I had been looking after her, chatting, making her feel better in the absence of everyone she knew. Her parents lived in London, it had taken all their funds to send her over to New York for an experimental treatment. I shut my eyes and sighed.
“I’m sorry, Doctor,” I told him quietly.
“Don’t apologize to me, apologize to her,” he said, pointing. “She’s so young, it should have worked.” He tweaked his nose, a nervous habit and his hands dropped to his sides. I took one of them in my own and squeezed it. It wasn’t that we were very close, our relationship was one of mentor and student, but I wanted him to know that I was there for him. Things affected him greatly, especially young people dying. I never mentioned it, but I knew that he had lost a daughter to leukaemia years ago.
“Amy, I can’t tell her,” he said. “I’ll go in there and she’ll look up at me and I’ll just blank…”
“How long has she got?” I asked.
“Who can say? A day, maybe two… her family are trying to get over, but their plane doesn’t leave until nine tonight…”
I nodded. Mandy’s eyelids fluttered in her sleep.
“I’ll tell her, if you want. She’s as much my patient as yours. And I’ll stick around if she wants me to, she’s going to feel like absolute crap…” I trailed off.
“You don’t have plans?” he asked, but for some reason the surprise seemed a little forced.
“I do, but they’re only with Sam, he’ll understand,” I said, waving them away. “Go on with you,” I told Doctor Finley. “Don’t you have something else to be doing?”
He nodded and patted my shoulder. “You’re a good girl, Amy,” he said and turned away.
I took a deep breath and went in through the door.
“Hey, Amy,” Mandy said, my entrance waking her. Most people called me that, the name ‘Doctor Williamson’ frightened me a little.
“What’s the news?” she asked nervously, looking up at me. She had wide brown eyes, like a deer’s. Her mousy hair lay lacklustre on the pillow around her like a halo. She sat up anxiously.
I sighed. “It’s not good, Mandy,” I said quietly.
She closed her eyes and bowed her head, taking a few deep, shuddering breaths.
“How long have I got?” she asked, keeping her voice from breaking, though it was unsteady.
“A few days at the most,” I said, unable to meet her eyes. “But Doctor Finley says probably less.”
She inhaled deeply, and I prepared for tears. I could feel them pricking at my own eyes. I hated this, hated the fact that there wasn’t anything more I could do to keep her alive. Time and time again I had tried to put myself in somebody like Mandy’s shoes, but I couldn’t do it. Couldn’t imagine knowing that I only had so short a time.
Mandy looked up at me. “Can you pass me my handbag, please?” she asked.
“Sure,” I said on automatic, wanting to help, and lifted it over to her.
She took it in her still-frail white hands and began rummaging through. Taking out a piece of crumpled foolscap paper, she said “I made this on the way over, in case I didn’t…” The sentence hung there and I bit my lip, taking the paper off her and unfolding it.
List of things to do before I die, I read. Underneath, neatly numbered in black ink, were twenty-seven things she wanted to do.
“I can’t do them now, I suppose,” Mandy said. I could feel her eyes on me, watching as I scanned the page.
“Go up the Eiffel Tower,” I read. “Be kissed…”
“I’ve never been kissed and I’m sixteen, I know, I’m a loser,” she said closing her eyes, a tiny vacant smile appearing on her lips.
“No you’re no-” I began, then Number Fourteen caught my eye. “Smoke?”
Mandy gave a little laugh that sounded transparent somehow, breathy, like a veil fluttering in the wind, even though it couldn’t be seen.
“Just, just once,” she said with a little shrug. “My friend Kelly used to do it, and she said it was great, I wanted to know why.”
I was still scanning the list. The room was silent for a moment save for the gurgle of pipes in the wall.
“What if I told you that you could still do some of these?” I asked her.
Her doe eyes widened. “Really?”
“Of course,” I said. “I get off in half an hour, and we’ll set to it.”
“You’d do that for me?” she asked again, looking slightly astonished.
I nodded. “I’ll be back soon,” I promised.
*
As soon as my shift ended, I went straight to my locker, took out my phone and dialled Sam’s number.
“I’m not going to make it tonight, darling,” I said wincing. I hated breaking off our plans, especially as he was going abroad come Monday for three weeks. I told him about Mandy. “I can’t just leave Sam, you should have seen her face.”
“’Course you couldn’t,” he said and I could hear a sad smile in his voice.
“Could you do something for me though?” I asked. “I hate to be so self-centred.”
“Amy, the day that you become self-centred is the day the world ends. Go on…”
“Okay, well, Mandy has this list…”
*
“Amy!” Mel called after me as I went down to the shop at the entrance. “What are you still doing here?”
I whirled round and stopped. My best friend frowned at me and ran a hand over her dishevelled fair hair. “You got off like, half an hour ago. I thought you were meeting Sam for the afternoon.”
“Change of plans,” I said, quickly telling her about Mandy.
“That sucks,” she said. “I’m sorry.”
“Can you do me a favour?”
Mel rolled her green-blue eyes. “As long as it doesn’t involve cleaning out bedpans.”
“It doesn’t. Mel, can you find me the best looking male here between the age of… twelve and twenty-five?”
She stared opened mouthed at me and I could see why. It wasn’t exactly a normal request. Usually when I asked for a favour it was to borrow a book, or if she could fetch something for me, or something vaguely normal. But used to my sometimes eccentricity, she just nodded.
“If you really want,” she said slowly.
“Just bring him to Ward Thirty One, around seven, and your iPod? Please?” I said. I reached up and gave her a quick peck on the cheek for reassurance that I hadn’t completely lost my mind. “Thank you, I owe you one!” I told her and continued on my way.
“Tess,” I said reaching the front desk. “Are you busy?”
The bottle blonde receptionist looked up at me. “No, why?”
“This is going to sound completely mad,” I said, leaning over the desk. “But can you please do something for me?”
“Sure, what?” she asked. Tess was possibly the most efficient receptionist in existence, if she couldn’t do this, no one could.
“Can you find me a simulator, or virtual tour or something of the Eiffel Tower?”
She laughed. “Why?” she asked, shaking her head in disbelief and flipping her hair with a neatly manicured hand.
Mandy’s story wasn’t something I wished to explain again so I shook my head tiredly. “Can you please just do it? I know it’s strange.”
Tess pursed her lips as she surveyed me. I must have looked worn out, hair escaping from its ponytail, bags under my eyes, hands fluttering on the desk in front of me.
“Sure,” she said smiling. “I’ll write down the address.”
“Thanks Tess, you’re a star,” I said with a grin and went over to our shop in the corner. It didn’t sell much, chocolate, sweets, magazines, cheap cuddly toys, flowers and behind the counter, though it was definitely against what we stood for, racks of cigarettes.
The man standing in front of these was one I was only slightly acquainted with. Amar had a crooked nose, dark skin and huge white teeth.
“Hi Amar,” I said. “Can I buy some cigarettes?”
He looked taken back. “A doctor, smoking?”
“They’re not for me, it’s a long story,” I said, thinking of Mandy’s face as she explained her request to me. “Can I please just have a box? And a lighter.”
“What brand?”
“Any of them,” I said, looking at the stacks. They probably all tasted the same.
He handed me a cheap red lighter and a box, a huge black and white label attached. Smoking Kills.
Well, said a nasty voice in my mind. It won’t kill Mandy.
Shaking the voice away, I took a few notes out of my back pocket and handed them to Amar, who counted out my change in coins. I took it off him and with a nod of thanks, made my way to the lift in the lobby up to the Third Floor.
*
“Where are we going?” Mandy asked from her wheelchair as I wheeled her out of the lift. “That was a long way up.”
“You’ll see,” I told her. I had made her promise to keep her eyes shut the whole way. I pushed opened the fire door and closed my own eyes momentarily, feeling the breeze on my face. It felt wonderful.
“You can open your eyes,” I told her. She did so. “We’re on the roof,” I explained, and I drew the box out of my pocket. She stared at it.
“When you said we would do some of them, I didn’t think you meant that one,” she said incredulously.
“Well I did. Just to prove that Kelly was lying,” my instincts added to make the comment sound disapproving.
“Let’s do it,” Mandy said, a spark coming into her dull eyes at the prospect of what was, and always had been, something forbidden -for me too. I couldn’t help but let out a little girl giggle as I slid one cigarette from the box.
“One drag, that’s all,” I warned her, and she nodded in agreement.
I lit it and placed it between her lips. She inhaled, Her delicate lungs immediately threw a cough out at me. I withdrew it again and put it out on the wall.
“I knew it would be disgusting,” she said hoarsely.
“But you had to learn it the hard way.” I took my clipboard out of a pouch at the back of the wheelchair and took the list and a pen out of it. I crossed off Number Fourteen with a single, solid stroke.
“Plus,” I said, wheeling her to where the wall was lower down. “Look over there. You can just about see…”
“The Statue of Liberty,” she said breathlessly. “It was Number One because I thought I’d see it from the plane, but I fell asleep.”
I crossed out Number One.
“What next?” Mandy asked as I frowned at Number Twelve and an idea struck me.
“It’s a secret,” I said, replacing the clipboard and wheeling her back inside.
*
“Back again?” Amar asked me. “You want another pack?”
“No,” I said, looking at the pile of cuddly toys. “Actually, I want one of these.”
“Why?” he asked. I shook my head then with a squeal of surprise, I found what I was looking for. I grabbed it and put it on the counter, taking out my remaining money.
“That’s all I have with me, please don’t tell me I have to go all the way back to my locker,” I said as he counted it doubtfully.
“You’re lucky, it’s just enough,” he said. He opened the cash register and put it inside. I grabbed the toy and with a nod of recognition, I left.
“Amy!” I whirled round at the sound of my name. “I found something for you.” Tess had stood up at her desk and was waving a piece of paper at me. “It’s on the tower’s website, I don’t know why you want it…”
I took the paper off her and glanced at it. “Thank you so much,” I said, truly grateful. It meant I would have to make a detour to my locker anyway, but it didn’t matter.
*
Mandy smiled at the screen of my laptop. “No way!” she said with a laugh.
“Way,” I said. “But that’s to keep you entertained while I’m gone to do my next round of tasks. Meanwhile, I know it’s not exactly what you wanted, but we’ve had to improvise…”
I handed her the fluffy grey and white toy with cheerful black bead eyes. She laughed again. Her laugh sounded more full now, more like a blanket than a veil (though I still didn’t know exactly how I was comparing sound to pieces of cloth).
“It’s perfect,” she said, looking at it.
“He’s called Mr. Darcy,” I said, pointing at the hasty makeshift collar I had made and stuck round his neck. The blanket laugh came back.
“Amy, you’re brilliant!” she said, and looked completely happy.
I took out my clipboard and pen. I crossed out Number Two, Climb the Eiffel Tower. Then I went down to Number Twelve See a wolf, and scribbled it off. Then Number Eighteen Own a dog called Mr. Darcy disappeared with a flourish of my pen as well.
It was nearing five o’clock, and dinner was usually brought around on the Third Floor at about half-five.
“Are you tired?” I asked Mandy. I hoped she wasn’t getting worn out.
“Not at all,” she said. “I’m too excited. Have you got more?”
“Yeah, but they’ll take a bit longer. You climb the Eiffel Tower there, I have some arranging to do.”
*
Back at my locker, I had received a text from Sam On my way, he had said.
I said bye to Mandy for the time being and hurried down to the lobby, just to see Sam come in, a huge box in his hands. I rushed over and took it off him.
“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” I said, kissing him to get my point across further. How could one person be so wonderful to be prepared to put up with me for the rest of my life?
“You’re welcome,” he said, nodding. “It has to be back by tomorrow. It took a lot of reasoning as it is.”
“You’re amazing,” I told him, meeting his bright green eyes. “I’m sorry about tonight.”
“I’ll wait for you here,” he said.
“I might be all night,” I warned him.
He shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. Now, go on!”
“I have to wait until around six,” I told him and we just sat. It was what I loved about him. We could do this for hours on end. I talked, he listened. Sometimes I even listened, but as Mel said that time, I talk a mile a minute.
But at ten to six, I kissed him goodbye and apologized before taking the box and rushing up in the lift with it.
*
Mandy’s eyes widened at the sight of the box and the bags piled on top of it. “What is that?” she asked.
“Number Twenty Six,” I said. “Sam’s aunt works in the fashion industry, and-”
Mandy gasped as I pulled it out. It was perfect, made of red, swishing satin, with a floor length, vintage full skirt and an off the shoulder neckline.
“Gosh, I wish I was wearing it,” I said. “But we need to get to work.” I unzipped my make-up bag, laying the dress gently on the floor. “You can’t wear that without being made up. There’s accessories and shoes of mine in the box too, Sam put them in there. I hope you’re my shoe size.”
She smiled. “Amy, thank you. I don’t know what else to say. Thank you. You’re amazing.”
“No,” I shook my head fervently. “If I was amazing,” I said quietly. “I’d have gone into that theatre and done the procedure myself. As it is, this is all I can do.”
“I’m glad,” Mandy said, her voice as soft as the satin of the dress. “I wouldn’t have liked it if I just lay here for my… last day.” Her voice lowered to a whisper on that word and she coughed.
“Are you feeling alright?” I asked on impulse. It was expected for her to deteriorate suddenly then never come out of the downhill spiral.
That couldn’t happen. Not yet.
“I’m okay,” she said bravely, making a smile appear on her lips. “I’m fine. Will you do my make up?”
“Of course,” I said, giving a shuddering sigh. This was the worst part of my job, I thought, as I began dusting her cheeks. I loved to cure people, to help them, and to see their faces. It was a reward far better than the promises of high positions in the future.
But Mandy was too young, in body, in spirit. The way her face lit up was too much to bear, the fact that she hadn’t brought herself to tears just yet. That she was being so strong.
With steady hands, trained to be so, I rounded her eyes in kohl and lengthened her lashes. I wasn’t an expert, in fact Mel usually did my make-up for me on a night out. But I managed. I took Mandy’s simple wooden hairbrush for her table and brushed her hair. It cam out lustrous and thick at the brush’s touch. I handed her my necklace, a gift from Sam, hideously expensive pearls that I didn’t wear because they made me feel guilty. After that, Sam had said he would never buy me a present again. “I don’t want you to, I don’t want you to think that I only want you for that,” I had told him. “I want you for so much more.” But he had insisted I kept it, and I wore it on special occasions. I’d wear it for the wedding.
I helped Mandy step into the magnificent garment, she was unsteady on her feet, but once she was in, resolutely refused to sit down in the wheelchair, instead putting on my peep-toe heels and gripping the iron bars of the bed for support.
“Now what?” she asked.
“We wait,” I told her. “Or rather, you wait and I go find Mel.”
I left her looking confused, and paused for a second. I had been obstructing her view of the mirror and now she glanced up, self conscious in a ball gown in a hospital. I smiled as she smoothed down the gathers at the waist and turned the corner, only to bump into the towering figure that was Mel.
“I have George here…” she said slowly, indicating a boy behind her. He must have been fifteen or sixteen, with a shy face hidden behind black curls.
“George, listen to me…” I began.
*
“Amy,” Mel said sadly, after I sent George in with his instructions. “You’re going to kill yourself one day with this.”
I twisted my fingers in my hand, unable to meet her eye. Sam never said things like that. He was less direct than Mel, always had been. It was difficult to face her when I knew I was doing something that would cause me harm. Sam just shielded me from harm, comforted me, but Mel, Mel was the one who would hammer some sense into me.
“I know,” I said quietly.
“George has got terminal cancer. He hasn’t got much longer than Mandy. And you’re giving them hope and happiness, Amy, it’s the most wonderful thing you could do. But look at you. You’re a mess. You can’t go on like this.”
“I’m content to know that they-that they died happily.”
“But what if you fail one day, Amy? Or if you get too close? It’s going to rip you apart. There’s such a thing as caring too much.”
I sighed and didn’t reply. I didn’t want to accept the fact that Mel was right. I tortured myself, I knew I did. But instead of speaking, I took out the list and my pen.
I crossed out Number Three, Be kissed, Number Twenty-Six, Wear something made by Chanel, and Number Eleven, Slow dance.
I listened to the song we had picked for them. Slow Dancing in a Burning Room. It was so appropriate.
Not just because of the title (we didn’t have many slow songs on Mel’s iPod, we were generally happy people).
But because it was exactly what I was doing.
*
“Thanks, Amy,” Mandy said as I helped her back into bed. She was back in the hospital gown. The blood had drained from her face and her voice was faint.
“You just get a good night’s sleep, okay? I’ll be right downstairs if you need me,” I said.
“Amy?” she asked quietly.
“Yes?” I immediately said.
“I know it’s selfish of me, you’ve done so much, but… I don’t want to die alone. Not without a friend to hold my hand,” she said softly, her voice shivering slightly.
My heart nearly broke at that. It was such an unselfish request, one that so many people were afraid to make.
“I’m scared,” she said at last.
I took her hand.
“Your family are on their way over right now,” I told her. “So all we have to do is stay up talking for the night, and you’ll be fine. Would you like that?”
She smiled. “Really?”
“Really,” I said, pulling a chair over and sitting down in it. “My friend says I can’t shut up to save a life, if you asked for silence then you’d be in trouble.”
She grinned, a nervous, light smile.
“So tell me about Sam,” she said, cocking her head in interest.
“He’s lovely…” I began, sitting in a dark room where starlight stumbled through the blinds and talking to a dying girl with eyes like a deer.
*
It was birdsong that woke me up, from outside. There was early sunlight breaking through the blinds onto the bedclothes, turning the skin on the limp hand that held mine golden.
There was no need to shut her eyes.
*
I filled up one of the sinks and splashed my face. I couldn’t tell if they were tears or drips of water that made ripples in the surface.
Somebody was watching me. I glanced in the mirror. It was Mel.
“I’m not here to say I told you so,” she promised me, walking forwards, casting her long shadow on the water. “I’m here because I thought you might need a friend.”
I turned and threw my arms around her and began to let everything out.
“Come on,” she said, rubbing my back. “Sam’s far better for you than I am.”
*
Doctor Finley took one look at me when I turned up in the lobby and told me I could take my next shift off. Sam had kept his promise and waited for me there. I curled up next to him and listened to his heartbeat, holding onto it, knowing he was alive and healthy, and that he didn’t want anything else off me.
“I should have stayed awake to talk. Talking, Sam. It’s what I do better than anything. How could I have failed?”
“You didn’t,” he whispered, stroking my hair.
I saw a family, two parents and two teenagers walk in. Mel greeted them and I watched her face fall. She folded her arms as was her habit when she was nervous and looked down as she delivered the news. The mother, with huge brown doe eyes that were so familiar, did not burst into tears, she just gripped her husband’s hand and hung her head. Mel glanced in my direction.
I stood up and reluctantly let go of Sam’s hand. I gulped down the rest of my tears and went and shook their hands.
“Mr. Brooks, Mrs. Brooks,” I said. “I’m in a worse state than you are.” I let out a blubbery laugh. “I’m so sorry.”
Mrs. Brooks shook her head. “We knew that she would have. I just wish we had had the chance to say goodbye.” Her voice was barely more than a whisper.
I breathed deeply looking at Mandy’s brother and sister, both close to tears. I bit my lip and knew I had to tell them the truth.
“It’s my fault she’s not here,” I said. “I promised I would stay awake with her and talk until you arrived. She was afraid of dying without a friend to hold her hand.”
Mrs. Brooks looked up at me. “Your friend has been telling us some extraordinary things. She says that you spent your time off looking after my daughter.”
I shrugged. “She had a list of things to do. I thought we could do them together.”
“And you did all of them?”
I shook my head, drawing the crumpled sheet of foolscap from my pocket. “We did the top three, and a few others,” I said sniffing and wiping my eyes.
The two of them glanced over the list.
“She climbed the Eiffel Tower?”
“Technically. And George kissed her, perhaps you’d like to talk to him,” I said, wanting to help.
“Dear,” those brown eyes met mine. “If you did all these…” she reached down and squeezed my hand. “She didn’t die without a friend.”
*
Amy’s my best friend, everybody’s best friend. Mel had begun another letter to another pen pal. She cares a lot about every single patient she has. She used to seriously mess herself up over it. But something happened, only last week, and she’s moved on. She cares still, but not too much. Not so much that she’s killing herself. I hope she keeps the resolution. Still talks a mile a minute though.
I put the sheet back down as she began to describe Sam.
I had given up all of my souvenirs of old patients, Megan’s bangle, Fred’s pencils, Mr. Hayes’ yellowing letter, except for one, pressed into my hand by a bereaved mother, which was taped to the door of our apartment.
List of things to do before I die.
But it wasn’t Mandy’s list anymore. It was mine.
Things change. Sometimes we have to let go of the past.
Still talks a mile a minute though.
But some things don’t.
I took the rented DVD off the table and went back to work.
It needs serious work. But what did you think? Critiques are begged for! PS- if you freaked out and stopped reading halfway through because it's too long, can you suggest a suitable stopping point?
. But I got the idea drilled into my head from watching "The Bucket List" on the plane over to Vancouver...
