From Ant to Eagle(36)

I just sat there quietly taking my turns on the Nintendo because I didn’t really know what to say.

“So your brother started his chemo today?” he asked.

I nodded.

“Started to get the chucks then, I bet?”

“The chucks?”

“Yeah, you know, vomit, puke, hurl, whatever you want to call it. We call it the chucks around here—or at least I do.”

“Oh. Yeah, he’s been throwing up all morning,” I said.

He nodded knowingly. “Don’t worry, he’ll feel fine tonight. The first cycle isn’t so bad.”

I felt a little relieved.

“It gets progressively worse with each cycle. Just wait for the next two.”

That was it. I’d had enough. I stood up quickly. “Sammy is probably wondering where I am,” I said.

He seemed disappointed. “Okay, I’m sure I’ll see you around. Come to Bingo night tomorrow—it’s the best night around this place. And make sure you bring your brother—don’t let him tell you he’s too tired.”

I nodded and started to leave, only stopping quickly at one of the shelves on my way out to grab a book.

I walked back down the hall to our room but stopped outside the door when I heard Mom and Sammy talking—Sammy sounded upset.

“But I know he is with her, Mom! I know he is!”

“Sammy, I promise you he’s not with Aleta, he’s just down the hall in the games room. If you let me run next door I can grab him and show you.”

“Nooo,” he cried, “don’t leave too.”

“Okay, okay, but I’m telling you, he’ll be back soon. Don’t worry.”

There was a long silence and I gathered myself to make my entrance when Sammy continued.

“Mom, do you think Cal still likes me?”

“Why would you ask something like that? Of course I do.”

There was no answer.

“Oh, Sammy, don’t worry. Your brother loves you very, very much. He’s just…well, he made a new friend this summer. That’s all. But that doesn’t change how he feels about you.”

“But he doesn’t want me around anymore. He only wants Aleta. Aleta is better at riding bikes, that’s why. We went for a bike ride but I was too slow. And then he didn’t want me around anymore.”

I heard the bed creak and peeked in to see Mom hugging Sammy. He was crying into her shoulder.

I leaned back, my head resting on the wall, and closed my eyes.

Oh no, I thought, what have I done?

Sammy was right. I had completely ditched him over the summer for Aleta. Even the day before I’d been asking Aleta to come to the hospital with me. How could I have been so stupid and selfish? If I hadn’t spent every minute of every day thinking about Aleta I would’ve noticed how sick Sammy was. It was like Aleta had cast some sort of spell over me and taken over my brain. I’d completely forgotten about my brother when I was with her and now look at him—he was sick with cancer and didn’t even know if I liked him. Well, I was going to change that. Right then and there I resolved to change that. I was going to be a better brother. I was going to stop thinking about Aleta and start thinking about Sammy.

I walked into the room and Sammy’s face lit up. I went and sat beside him on the bed.

“Sorry, Sammy,” I said, “I should have told you I was going to the games room.” Mom looked at me crossly but I gave a knowing nod that I understood. “When you’re feeling better we’ll go to the games room together, okay? There are literally walls of toys and games and books and there’s an air hockey table and a TV and video games and—”

Sammy heaved into the cardboard bowl the nurse had given him as a barf bucket. He definitely wasn’t well enough for the games room.

“Maybe tomorrow we can go,” I said.

“Okay,” he said back, wiping his face and smiling.

I remembered the book in my hand that I’d grabbed from the games room—The Secret Garden. I’d had to read it in school and it was horrifically boring but I knew for certain it had no scary parts and wouldn’t give Sammy nightmares.

“You want me to read this to you?” I asked, showing him the cover.

“What book is that?” he asked, his nose scrunching up as he tried to read the words.

“It’s called The Secret Garden.”

“Is it about monsters in a secret garden?”

“Nope.”

“Vampires?”

“Nope.”

Sammy paused, thinking. “Then what’s it about?”

“A garden.”

“Just a garden?”

“Yep.”

He thought for a minute. “Is it good?”

“Not bad,” I lied.

“Why can’t we read Cuckoo Clock of Doom?” he asked, pointing to the book under my cot.

“I just thought it would be nice to read something different for a change.”

Sammy looked really perplexed.

“But we always read Goosebumps books,” he pressed.

“Yeah, I know. Which is why it might be good to try something new.”

I opened the front cover and started to read, not giving him a chance to keep arguing.

He sat listening to me read the first few pages before his eyes began to flutter, then close. He was fast asleep before I’d even finished the first chapter.