before i die Jenny Downham

forty

The light begins to come back. The absolute dark fades at the edges. My mouths dry. The grit of last nights medication lines my throat.
Hey, Adam says.
Hes got a hard-on, apologizes for it with a shy smile, then opens the curtains and stands at the window looking out. Beyond him, the dull pink clouds of morning.
Youre going to be here for years without me, I tell him.
He says, Shall I make us some breakfast?
Like a butler, he brings me things. A lemon ice lolly. A hot-water bottle. Slices of orange cut onto a plate. Another blanket. He puts cinnamon sticks to boil on the oven downstairs, because I want to smell Christmas.
How did this happen so quickly? How did it really come true?
please get into bed and climb on top of me with your warmth and wrap me with your arms and make it stop
Mums putting up a trellis, he says. First it was a herb garden, then roses, now she wants honeysuckle. I might go out and give her a hand when your dad comes to sit with you. Would that be OK?
Sure.
You dont fancy sitting outside again today? No.
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I cant be bothered to move. The sun grinds into my brain and everything aches.
this mad psycho tells everyone to get into a field and says Im going to pick one of you just one of you out of all of you to die and everyones looking around thinking its so unlikely to be me because theres thousands of us so statistically its completely unlikely and the psycho walks up and down looking at everyone and when he gets near me he hesitates and he smiles and then he points right at me and says youre the one and the shock that its me and yet of course its me why wouldnt it be I knew all along
Cal crashes in. Can I go out?
Dad sighs. Where?
Just out.
You need to be a bit more specific. ll let you know when I get there. Not good enough.
Everyone else is allowed randomly out.
m not interested in everyone else.
Wonderful rage as Cal stomps to the door. The bits of garden in his hair, the filth of his fingernails. His body able to yank the door open and slam it behind him.
Youre all such bloody bastards! he yells as he races down the stairs.
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Instructions for Cal
Dont die young. Dont get meningitis, or Aids or anything else ever. Be healthy. Dont fight in any war, or join a cult, or get religion, or lose your heart to someone who doesnt deserve it. Dont think you have to be good because youre the only one left. Be as bad as you like.
I reach for Dads hand. His fingers look raw, as if theyve been through a grater.
What have you done?
He shrugs. I dont know. I didnt even notice.
Further instructions for Dad – Let Cal be enough for you.
I love you. I love you. I send this message through my fingers and into his, up his arm and into his heart. Hear me. I love you. And Im sorry to leave you.
I wake up hours later. How did that happen?
Cals here again, sitting next to me on the bed propped up with pillows. Sorry I shouted.
Did Dad tell you to say that?
He nods. The curtains are open and somehow the darkness is back.
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Are you scared? Cal says this very softly, as if its something hes thinking, but didnt mean to say.
m scared of falling asleep.
That you wont wake up?
Yes.
His eyes shine. But you know it wont be tonight, dont you? I mean, youll be able to tell, wont you?
It wont be tonight.
He rests his head on my shoulder. I really, really hate this, he says.
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