A Thousand Cranes

"Lili's number one fan!"

                I almost spat out the coffee that I was drinking when I saw that sentence written all over white shirt on the picture he e-mailed me. Laughter and gratitude took over me, but mostly laughter, as I looked at Martin's surprise. His crazy ideas never fail to amuse me. I printed out the picture and put it on a picture frame beside my bed. I loved the way he smiles. His smile always put me at ease even when I'm troubled.

                It has already been three years since we first met. I love to read and thus I was named "Wormy" by my classmates for being such a bookworm. I spend every spare time I have on either reading books or facing my laptop. There was this international bestseller that I really liked and I visited forum sites for it. That was where I met Martin. He's one of the avid fans of the book and he usually posts on the forum site. We had friendly arguments about our perception of the book that we eventually took each other's personal e-mail so we could continue on with our discussions outside the forum.

                Martin is an education student specializing in English. He lives in Taiwan and he's the eldest among four siblings. His father owns a pharmacy and his mother helps him out. He's interested in literature which is the most essential factor that made us become very good friends. We share many common interests in music, arts and movies. Whenever he had problems in science I would help him out and he'd do the same when I have problems in math.

                He usually surprises me with his simple yet heartwarming presents.  There was this one time he made a caricature of me. He also wrote and dedicated poems and songs for me. I usually wrote poems and short stories and showed it to him. He was always eager to read every piece of literature that I write. He was the only one who ever supported me in my forbidden struggle to becoming a novelist.

                I would always contact him whenever I feel sad and lonely. If I was lucky enough, I would catch him online and he would instantly chat with me. We have different timelines since I'm in the Philippines but even if it was one in the morning he would still listen to my problem and comfort me with his corny jokes. Simply seeing his jolly expressions often relieve me from my stresses. He wiped my tear from afar with his sweet and caring words.

                My mother never liked any of my works. She had never bothered to read even a single poem that I made and kept telling me to stop writing and focus more on studying. No matter how hard I tried she never agreed with any of my dreams and I always ended up just following and obeying what they want. My father did not really care at all about anything else that I do as long as I become a doctor. All that father ever really cared about was what he wants me to become. Nothing more, nothing less. My writings are the least of his concern. I was like a puppet unable to do anything of my own free will. If they knew I was writing they would probably urge me to stop it and just read text books instead. My dream, for them, is just a big waste of time. I didn't have any real friends in our neighborhood or in school because I always get stuck at home to study. I never really had a life. It was only Martin that kept my hand holding on to the pen to continue writing. He was the best friend I ever had.

                One day, he suddenly changed. I asked him if there was anything wrong. He just said he's got a bad headache. I got worried when that happened frequently and asked him to consult a doctor and get a checkup. After that he said he was fine and just got stressed and the doctor gave him medications for him to feel better. He turned back to his old jolly self and I was relieved. He made a promise that one day he'll come to the Philippines to visit me and we'll go to the beach and watch the sunset together. I promised to wait for that moment and I'll be giving him a very special gift.

                Since we made that promise, I began making the special gift that I told him. I spent every spare time that I have to make paper folding of cranes. In the Japanese culture, a thousand cranes were usually made for sickness recovery, prosperity in marriage, or to have one wish come true. We have the same wish and that was to write our own book with all our poems and stories in it.

                Our online conversations shortened and lessened. We lost communication for five months and he never returned any of my e-mails. I guessed he was too busy with his studies or he was helping out his parents with the pharmacy. I even had the stupid thought that maybe he's trying to surprise me and would one day be knocking on our door to visit me.

                One rainy afternoon, I suddenly felt cold and lonely. I continued doing the cranes and finally I made a thousand of it. I opened my e-mail after the last crane and checked to see if I had any new mails. I was so happy to see his name on my inbox. I eagerly opened his e-mail and read it. There were three attachments, two letters and a picture. I downloaded it and read the letters first. The first letter contained a note from his father.

                I couldn't believe what was written on the note. Martin can't really be dead! It just can't be true. I was not prepared for this. My hand shook and tears began to fill my eyes as I continued to scroll up and down to make sure that what I was reading was right. For once I wanted this message to be just one of his jokes, but it was not funny and it was not a joke. The picture attached was him in his coffin. I cried so hard when I looked at it. He died of brain cancer, and to think I didn't notice it when I was aiming to be a doctor. I was so mad about myself to not have known it at all.

                I was still crying as I read the last attachment. It was the last letter he wrote for me.

Dear Lili,

 

            I love you so much. I loved everything about you. I wanted to be by your side and make you happy. Sorry if I kept this a secret from you. I couldn't bear to see you in pain. I didn't want to see you hurting while knowing that I would soon die. I wanted your last memory of me to be the wacky and corny best friend of yours. I'm sorry too if I didn't keep my promise. I wasn't able to watch the sunset with you. Even so, would you grant me a last favor?

 

            Promise to me that you would not stop writing beautiful poems. You would never give up on our dream to write a book. I'll still be your number one fan even from afar. Be happy with your poems so you could share the happiness with the people who'll read it. I hope that you would become one of the best doctors and help many people. Never ever give up on your dreams. Maybe someday we'll meet again.

 

Love,

Martin

                I wiped my tear and tried to smile.

                The cold wind blew the cranes and it looked beautiful as my cranes flew around my room. His wish will be granted. I will not stop writing and he will forever be my number one fan.