The next morning Mom came in and sat down on my bed. “AJ, wake up. Come on, honey, wake up. I have to talk to you before school.”
I opened my eyes but I could only see half of Mom. My eyes felt like slits full of sand. I tried to turn over, but Mom practically yelled in my ear, “AJ, wake up. I have to talk to you, now!”
That was enough to wake up a dead person. I sat up and yawned. I didn’t even remember getting home and into bed the night before. Suddenly, I realized that Mom’s face was sad and her eyes were full of tears.
“Mom, what’s wrong? Why are you crying?”
“Honey, I’m so sorry. Amberley is in the hospital. She’s very ill. There was nothing you could do last night, so I didn’t tell you. I’ve talked to Conrad and he knows that you will be going to the hospital this morning instead of to school. Come on, get dressed, and I’ll drive you.”
I hate hospitals. I hate that antiseptic smell that tries to cover up the odor of blood and sickness but never succeeds. I tiptoed into Amberley’s room and stopped in shock. She was so pale she seemed to fade into the white sheet covering her. The only color in the whole room was her dark hair, spread out on the pillow. She had a tube attached to her throat at one end and to a large machine at the other. It pumped in and out, in and out, and made a swishing noise that made me jump. She was hooked up to a blood pressure cuff and another machine that had thin green lines going up and down in a funny, uneven pattern. Mom told me later that it was a heart monitor…in case her heart stopped, it would give a loud buzz and the nurses would come running. Oh great, that was reassuring. Aaagh.
Her grandmother was sitting in a soft chair under a large window. The sunlight streamed in across the floor in an uneven pattern, but it didn’t touch the sterile hospital bed. Mrs. Mehta looked up while I was standing in the doorway and motioned for me to come in. I crossed over to her chair, and she held out her hand.
“AJ, I’m so glad you came. I talked to your mother while you were gone. Amberley wanted to see you, but she’s asleep now.”
“Mrs. Mehta, what happened? Why is she hooked up to all those machines?”
“She went into a myasthenia crisis Saturday night. She’s having a very hard time breathing, and her heart rate is slowing down. I don’t…I don’t know if she will come out of this one.” She started to cry soundlessly and held my hand so tight it hurt.
“You mean…you mean she’s going…to…she could…die?” My throat felt like a hand held it in a vise. I could barely get the words out.
Mrs. Mehta nodded and released my hand. “Why don’t you go sit with her awhile? Maybe she will wake up, and she’ll be glad to see you if she does.”
I walked slowly over to the bed and sat down on the straight chair next to it. I clasped her limp hand in mine. I watched the air pump move up and down, forcing air into Amberley’s lungs. I looked at her face, her lashes black against her white cheeks. I’d never noticed how long her lashes were before. Tears crept down my cheeks even though I was trying so hard not to cry. I thought of all the times I had been critical of her awkwardness in cheerleading. I was such a dummy. I wanted her to be my best friend. I wanted time to have fun with her, to teach her to ride. Now that might never happen. I felt my chest tighten and I was suddenly cold all over.
A minute later, her eyes opened, and she smiled. Well, she didn’t exactly smile with her lips, the tube wouldn’t let her, but I could see the smile in her eyes.
“Amberley, I’m so glad to see you!” All right, that was a stupid thing to say. She’s in the hospital, for Pete’s sake.
“I mean, I’m sorry you’re sick, but I’m happy to see you.”
She made a motion with her other hand, and her grandmother said, “AJ, there’s a pencil and tablet on the table there. She wants to write something since she can’t talk.”
I let go of Amberley’s hand and handed her the tablet. A couple of minutes later, she handed it to me. “AJ, thanx 4 coming. Happy 2 C you, 2. Tell me abt yr wk/end.”
“Well, it was a bust. I talked to Dad about all the problems with the J’s and Celine and everything. We had a good talk Friday night, and then Saturday we went to Ghirardelli Square and really had a good time. Then, he told me we were going out for dinner and he wanted me to dress nice. So he took me to Macy’s, and he spent almost eight hundred dollars on an outfit and shoes for me. I couldn’t believe how expensive the clothes were.”
Amberley stopped me by pulling on my hand. She wrote something down and handed it to me again. “O/fit kind, color? Where dinner?”
I described the clothes I bought, and told her about Pietro’s and all the silverware that I’d never seen before. “That’s where everything went wrong, though. Dad’s girlfriend, Katherine, was there. Dad had ordered this awesome dinner, but it had all these different courses, and I ate everything. Then when the main course came, I was full. I tried to eat a little but I got sick and had to go to the restroom. I threw up everything. It was gross.”
She tried to giggle, but the tube stopped her. Her eyes were shining and happy so I knew she was enjoying my story. She wrote, “Tht gross! Tell abt K. Nice? Like her? Why things wrong?”
I sighed. “I don’t think Dad told me the whole story. Katherine is pretty, and she tried to be nice to me. Actually, she was nice when I got sick. But she’s changed Dad, and I don’t like it.”
I told her how Dad had acted and what he’d said on Sunday.
“Amberley, it’s like he was two different people. Friday night and Saturday he was my dad, like he’d always been, and then Saturday night and Sunday he was this person I didn’t even know. It didn’t happen until Katherine was there. Sunday when she took me riding…”
Amberley interrupted me by pulling on my hand. She wrote “Riding? Horses?”
I explained about Katherine’s ranch and all her Thoroughbreds, and how she had inherited everything. “She’s rich, really rich. And Dad’s going to move in with her when they get married. He’s got this beautiful apartment in San Francisco, close to his office, and he’s going to move into this gigantic ranch way out in the hills. It’s like she’s got him wrapped around her little finger or something.”
Her pencil got busy again. “U don’t like her?”
I shrugged. “Well, she kept saying how she wanted to be friends with me and my brother and sisters. She didn’t even call them by name. The whole time I was with her, she never called Andrew and the twins by their names. Once she even said ‘my siblings’! I don’t know. It doesn’t feel right. No…no, I don’t like her, and I wish I never had to see her again. It’s all so messed up!”
Before I could go on, I heard a sound from Amberley. I looked at her and her eyes were closed again and the heart monitor was going haywire. The pencil and tablet fell out of her hands. Her grandmother jumped up and ran over to the bed and then rang the bell for the nurse. A bunch of doctors and nurses came running in, and they herded me out of the room without telling me anything, except I had to leave. I hung around in the corridor for what seemed like forever before her grandmother came out and put her arm around me.
“She’s okay for now, AJ. Just a setback. You’d better go on to school. I’ll keep in touch with you and let you know when you can come see her again.” She gave me a hug and went back inside the room, but not before I saw how frightened her dark eyes were.
I looked back at the bed before I left, but I couldn’t see anything except the backs of white uniforms bending over Amberley. I took a deep breath, choked back my tears, and ran as fast as I could out of the hospital, leaving all those horrible smells behind.
When I got to school it was noon, and the buzz was all over about Amberley being in the hospital and how she might die. It made me sick. All the kids had ever done was laugh at her and make fun of her when she stumbled or fell. Now everyone was acting as if she were their best friend, and they didn’t even know her. They hadn’t wanted to know her.
But you were just as bad, said that nasty little voice in my head. You laughed at her, too, remember?
For once, I had nothing to say to that inner voice. It was right, and I knew somehow that I no longer had the time to apologize for all the wrong things I’d said before I got to know her. I sat down under the big tree where Amberley, Lisa, and I had eaten lunch together so many times. I hugged my knees tight up against my chest, as if that would somehow ease the huge pain that filled it, put my head down, and cried.
The next thing I knew, a hand touched my shoulder. “AJ, what’s wrong? Can I help?”
I looked up into Cooper’s green eyes. His voice was grave. “It’s Amberley, isn’t it? Did she…I mean, is she still okay?”
I brushed the tears from my face and wiped my nose on the sleeve of my sweater. What a time not to have a handkerchief, but Cooper dug into his pocket and handed me one.
“Hi. I just came from the hospital. Amberley is still really sick. She had something go wrong while we were talking. I don’t know what, but that heart machine went all funny and everyone came running in. Her grandma told me that she’d had a ‘setback,’ whatever that means. I feel so awful. Oh Cooper, I don…don’t think she’s…she’s going to make it.” I started crying all over again.
Cooper sat down and put his arm around me. He didn’t talk, or make any of those stupid comments like adults do…you know, like “Everything’s going to be all right” or “Now, now, don’t cry, she’ll be fine.” He let me lean against him and cry.
* * * *
The next couple of days, Lisa and I took turns visiting Amberley. The hospital would only let one of us come to see her once a day, so the one who went after school would call the other at night and talk. She was not getting better.
Celine came up to me on Thursday. “AJ, how is Amberley? Honestly, I am sorry she’s sick. Is she getting any better?”
I was speechless. At first, I wanted to snarl at her and tell her to get out of my face, but when I saw she was not trying to be nasty or sarcastic, I answered her. “She’s not getting better. I don’t think she is going to get better. I think she’s going to die.”
Jaime and Julie walked up as I said that. They both had startled looks on their faces. Julie said, “Oh no! Are you serious? Amberley might die?”
“Yes, she might die. What do you care, you don’t like her any way.”
Julie had this hurt look on her face. “You don’t have to be nasty. You don’t have to like someone to not want them to die.”
I started to feel embarrassed for having said that, until Jaime spoke up. “It isn’t that we don’t like her, we’ve told you that before. It’s just that she’s not one of us, that’s all. But of course we don’t want her to die.”
At that point, all the old rage came back. I clenched my fists and wanted to hit something, but instead, found myself saying very quietly, “You’re right, Jaime, she’s not one of you, and that’s what makes her so special. It’s too bad it’s too late for you to know that.” I turned around and stalked off.
Mom, Andrew, and the twins had been great all week. Mom had not asked any more questions about Dad and Katherine, and for some reason, Andrew and the twins hadn’t asked me anything at all. Either they didn’t want to know or maybe everyone was so worried about Amberley that the rest wasn’t as important anymore. Then, my world changed again.
The insistent ringing of the phone woke me out of a deep sleep. It stopped suddenly so I knew Mom must have answered it. I looked at my clock and saw it was one-thirty in the morning. I hoped it wasn’t some kind of crank call or Mom was going to be furious. When she came into my room, I knew it wasn’t a crank.
“AJ, get dressed. Mrs. Mehta called. She wants you to come to the hospital.”
Mom waited in the corridor while I went into Amberley’s room. Her grandmother was sitting on one side of her bed, holding her left hand. Tears filled her eyes. Amberley was propped up on pillows, and all of the machines were gone. No breathing machine, no heart machine, no IV tubes hanging all over. I tiptoed to the side of the bed and sat down. She opened her eyes and smiled at me. Faintly, her voice raspy from the breathing tube, she said, “Hi, AJ. I’m glad you came. I wanted to tell you goodbye.”
I couldn’t breathe. I felt like some gigantic hand was squeezing my heart so tight it would burst. “No, Amberley, not goodbye. Please, you’ve got to get well. We’ve got so much more to do, we’ve…”
“No. It’s okay. It’s time. I’m so tired, and it’s so hard to breathe. I just want you to know…I…I love you, AJ. Thanks for being my friend.”
I couldn’t help it, I started sobbing. “I love you, too, you are my best friend. My very best friend in the whole world. What will I do without you?”
Amberley smiled, just barely. She withdrew her hand from mine and held out her pinkie finger. “Best friends forever?”
I hooked her little finger with mine and squeezed tightly. “Yes, Amberley, best friends forever.”
Her eyes closed and her finger stayed entwined with mine for a few moments more. Then slowly, her hand dropped down to the bed.
* * * *
I went to school Friday because I couldn’t stay home and do nothing. The mood in the whole school was quiet and somber. We had an assembly and Mr. Fox told us about the grief counselors who would be helping anyone who needed it. There was a lot of crying going on, in the assembly, in the hallways, and in classes. I thought it was hypocritical, considering how most of the kids treated Amberley. But the teachers kept talking about how it was normal for kids to feel sorrow and grief for a classmate who died, even if they didn’t know the person very well.
That evening, practically the whole town came out for a candlelight vigil in front of Amberley’s house. It was so cold people’s breath hung frozen in the air. The flowers and teddy bears and stuffed animals that people had left on the lawn poked through a blanket of snow like bright pieces of confetti. There were a lot of notes and even some funny masks, since Sunday was Halloween. Everyone lit a candle and we all sang soft songs. It was sad and beautiful. A lot of people were crying, most of them silently. I couldn’t.
There was no school on Monday, and the services were held at the cemetery at the edge of town. Amberley had been raised as a Hindu by her grandmother, but since there was no Hindu church in town, there were no church services. Actually, I didn’t even know if Hindus had a church or not. There were a lot of people at the cemetery, and I wondered if some of them had come out just to see if there was going to be anything different about the burial. Amberley’s casket was simple and pure white, with a blanket of white roses covering it. Mrs. Mehta wore a traditional white sari, but she was Amberley’s only relative. Her parents didn’t come.
I’d never been to a funeral before. Actually, I’d never been to a cemetery before. I saw some headstones that had fancy writing on them; others had angels or religious carvings or trinkets of some kind. Farther away some of the stones leaned toward each other, as though they were holding each other up. I could smell freshly mown grass and newly turned dirt. There were fresh flowers on graves everywhere, and the scent was so sweet it almost made sick. I wanted to get out of there.
After the service, Mrs. Mehta came over to me. “AJ, I would like for you and your family to come to my house for a traditional dinner. There are some things of Amberley’s that I want to give you.”
Mom, Andrew and the twins,, and I were met at the house by Lisa and her parents. We were the only ones there, and it made me both mad and sad. Mad that Amberley had not had any friends except for Lisa and me, and sad because I had learned too late how much I liked her. The kids just didn’t know what they had missed in having Amberley for a friend…Amberley, the shy little klutz who knew herself so well that she could ignore the cruel things others said about her and still keep her dignity and sense of self. That was more than I could do.
After Lisa and her parents left, Mrs. Mehta led us into the living room. She handed me the painting of Sunni that, somehow, Amberley had managed to finish. “This is for you, AJ. Amberley wanted to be sure that you had it. Also, if you want them, I’m going to give you some of her paintings. You see, I’m going back to India. I have no reason to stay here any longer.”
My mother was enthralled by the paintings. There were nine of them, and all were spectacular. Mom said, “Oh my goodness. I’m going to take these paintings to the gallery where I work and ask the curator to take a look at them. She might even want to have an exhibition. They are fantastic!”
* * * *
A few weeks later, Amberley’s paintings were put on exhibition and up for sale. The money from their sale was to go to the Myasthenia Gravis Foundation, to help with research for a cure. Eight of them sold. When I went to the gallery the night of the exhibition, Mrs. Jarvis, the curator, brought a large wrapped package to me. “AJ, all of the paintings have been spoken for. Your friend was a wonderful artist. But this one could not be sold. It’s for you.”
I tore off the wrapping paper and uncovered an awesome painting of San Francisco Bay. It was painted from the viewpoint of a rocky ledge and showed the ocean waves slapping up against the rocks below, spewing spray everywhere. The sun was just beginning to set behind the Golden Gate Bridge, which was shrouded in fog, all except for one single spire. Amberley had painted the sun hitting the spire and turning it pure gold against a tiny patch of deep blue sky. It took my breath away.
Mrs. Jarvis said, “Turn it over, AJ.”
On the back of the canvas was a small Post-It note. It said, “AJ, something for you to remember your beloved San Francisco by. Love, Amberley.”
The tears came then, hot, burning, but in some strange way, not sad. I had cried all my sad tears, and I didn’t think I had any left. This was different. I couldn’t explain, but I felt somehow Amberley was telling me she knew how I felt about her and we were truly best friends forever. It was an amazing gift, in more ways than I could understand until years later. I smiled through my tears, because I was sure that somewhere, Amberley was giggling.