100 Things To Do Before I Die

T H R E E

Will didn't come back until Wednesday. Dr. Montez was more than shocked when his son asked to come back to the hospital with him. Every time he came in, he gave me a suspicious look and a raised eyebrow. The days were normal. Tests. Medications. Schoolwork. Occasional visits. The norm.
When Will did open the door, my heart lept. He was holding an envelope in his right hand, smoothie in the other. He smiled. "Hi."
    "Hello."
    He strode over to the chair he sat last and pulled the table close to him. He put the envelope and the smoothie in front of me. "Those are for you."
   "Thanks?" I said, confused. "What is this?"
   "Well, I have connections to Brian Martin."
    "And that is?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.
     "The lottery winner."
     "And?"
     "Stop asking questions and open the damn letter."
    The letter had a puppy sticker sealing it, which I didn't want to rip because it was pretty cute. He also sprayed something on the envelope, because it smelt like incense. Will gave a look that said Well, what are you waiting for? and started tapping his foot.
Miss Chavez,
It has come to my attention that you have a rare heart disease and live in the hospital. Also that you have a bucket list in which you wish to fulfill, but have not been able too. William Montez has asked a favor of me, and I still have yet to let you know. I will come to my decisions and let you know in the next week, after my upcoming appointment. Best wishes to you,
Brian Martin
"What did you tell him? What's the favor?" I ask, confused. What favor was the winner of the lottery with who knows how much money, be doing for Will? "How do you know him?"
"He lives down the road. And you'll find out the favor when he says yes."
"But what if he says no?"
Will shrugs. "Then I guess you won't find out."
"What?!"
"Just wait it out, Cora," he laughs. He has a nice laugh. It's not super deep and it's not high pitched. It's like a chuckle, but not like Goofy's.
    "Is this all you came to tell me?"
    "Well, I did come to chill."
    I learned a lot about Will that day. He went to the high school down the road, he moved here 4 years ago when his dad got a job at the hospital. He played football, and he was from Miami. His mom died when he was 6, and he had two brothers and two sisters.
    By the evening, Will and I had played a game of chess, gotten in a fight over who was cheating in Monopoly, planned what would happen if I did get to do the bucket list, and made 6 trips to the vending machine. "I still can't believe you've never done one of these, at least meeting Daniel Radcliffe or go to a Rascal Flatts concert. Can't you use that Make-a-Wish program?"
    "I don't know, I've never thought of it, really," I admitted.
    "You should think about it."
    "Even if I did," I said,"I don't think they'd let me out of the hospital. Unless you can convince your dad to let me go, the chances are slim."
   Will threw another Frito into his mouth and stayed quiet, deep in thought. His face had contorted into a constipated expression, and he had frown lines on his forehead. "What are you thinking about?" I asked.
   His head snapped up, then, "Nothing! I swear!"
   "Um, okay."
   "Well, I better get going, but I'll be back soon, I promise."
    I didn't want him to dread visiting me, so I just told him straight up. "You know you don't have to visit me just because you feel bad. You don't have to come if you don't want. It's okay, I really don't give a shit that you crashed into my wheel chair."
   This clearly shocked him, and his face went red. He didn't know what to say. I never got why people only visited me because they pitied me. Why visit me when you clearly don't want to be here? Sometimes, I felt like that was the only reason Gianna visited me.
   "No, that's not it at all. I want to visit you."
   "Will, you don't have to waste your time on me."
    "I'm not wasting my time. I like visiting you." He didn't sound very convincing.
    "Look, if your dad is forcing you to come, tell him I said it's okay and that you don't have to-"
    "Cora, stop!" He was grabbing my shoulders now, his eyes locked on mine. Did I mention he had amazing eyes? "Cora. I want to visit you. I don't mind. So just stop thinking the world only pities you." Well he read my mind.
    "Ok."
    We don't say anything after that. He just hugs me and leaves.
The next day when Dr. Montez came in, he asked, "What did you do to my son?"
"What do you mean?" I questioned, scared whatever he might suspect.
    "Suddenly, he always wants to come in with me. And he certainly isn't coming to visit anyone else."
   "I'm not sure why, sir." This was going where?
   "Listen, Cora. You're a sweet girl, I've loved working with you for four years, just don't get too attached to him, okay?"
   "Oh, sir, if this is about him visiting me a lot, you don't have to force him to come. I already know, he was nice enough to tell me he liked coming but you don't have to force him to visit me."
    Dr. Montez looks up with a confused expression. "No, sweetie, I've never forced him to visit you."
    "What?" I say, shocked. "Then, why don't you want me to 'become attached to him'?"
    "Well, he tends to," he softly murmurs,"oh, I'll just let him tell you." He gathers up his things and bolts out of the room before my confusion sinks in.
   When Will came in Friday night, I wanted to ask him what he "tended to do", but a part of me held back. Besides, he brought a pizza. "Hey, cutie."
Hearing this made me blush. Then a million thoughts zip through my head. Did he mean it in a friend way or a flirting way? Was he just being nice? Was he being sarcastic? Was he even talking to me?! "Hi."
"As you can see, I brought us a pizza, and," he says, reaching into his backpack, "We're watching movies tonight."
"Really? You really didn't have to do that and you don't have to stay late if you don't want to. Whatever you want to do you do it and I'll just watch you do your thing. Do your thing, I will watch," I stutter. Well now I look dumb. What did I even just say?
"Core, I want to stay."
"Thank you," I whisper.
"So, whatcha wanna watch first, girly?"he asks, changing the subject. He lays 3 movie out on the bed: The Longest Ride, Dirty Dancing, and The Blind Side. I like all these movies, so it really doesn't matter to me.
"You pick."
"What? No, you pick."
"You pick, I insist."
"No, your the guest, you pick."
"This is my room."
"I don't care, you pick."
"William, I swear we're not going to watch any movies unless you pick."
He puffs his lip out. "Fine, ya meaner." In the end, we watched The Blind Side first. Then The Longest Ride. Then Dirty Dancing, which he had never seen. I would say our commentary was awesome.
"So," I bring up, "have you heard from that guy?"
"Yeah, we've corresponded."
He says nothing, so after awhile, I hit him, then, "Well?"
"It's just, I don't know." I look down at my hands, disappointed. My thoughts are interrupted when Will says, "But I did find this sitting outside your door." He holds up an envelope just like the last, except this time, the sticker is a scratch and sniff smiley face. "Well open it."
I smile at him and careful rip the envelopes edges, eager to see what it says. Eager to find out what the favor Ben asked was. Maybe he'll give my hospital room an extreme makeover.
Dear Miss Chavez,
Congratulations, I have come to a decision. At my recent appointment, I was told some shocking news. Perhaps we could discuss this over lunch? I am aware that you cannot leave the hospital. I will be there on Saturday at 1:00. I'll be in the hospital cafeteria. Best wishes to you, sincerely,
Brian Martin
   Will nudges my arm and raises his eyebrows. "Well?"
   "He's coming tomorrow. I still have no idea what he's talking about."
   "Well, I guess you'll have to find out."
*************************************
    12:56. I sit at the table next to the window with Will, tapping my fingers. I'm nervous. What if I'm not what Mr. Martin expected? What if he anticipated a 7 or 10 year old little girl? Maybe he'll think I'm rude. I'm just shy, but still. 12:58. Will grabs my hand to stop the tapping, which transfers to my foot. What if he doesn't show up? Maybe I'm being pranked. Someone is going to pop out with a camera any second now. 1:00. Brian Martin is pulls out the loud, screeching chair across from me and pops a squat.
    He holds out his hands. "Hello," he smiles, "you must be Cora Chavez."
   "Hi, nice to meet you."
   Brian Martin is not what I expected. I had thought he would be a bald, buff man with tattoos all on his arms. I pictured him arrogant and intimidating. Instead, Mr. Martin was a happy looking old man with white hair and a white mustache. He also had to be about 5"6 and had a big dimple on his cheek. His hand was soft, his nails nicely clipped. He had to be around 75 years old.
   "Thank you for meeting with me today," he beams.
    "Thank you for inviting us, sir," I said.
    "And you must be William," he points out, motioning Will.
    "Yes, sir. But you can just call me Will, if you'd like."
    Mr. Martin smiles. "So, we have much to discuss. Has William told you about the favor he has asked of me?"
    "No sir," I said.
    "Alright, well, allow me to go get a salad, and then I will tell you everything." When he returns with his salad, he hands me another envelope, this time a kitten sticker. "I'd always liked those stickers, even though they are meant for children. I always seal my envelopes with them, even my payments," he says.
   I laugh. He's a cute little old man. He seems very good-hearted.
    "Alright. Let me start from the beginning. I bought a lottery ticket. I won. 2,000,000 dollars. Most I donated to charity, after all, I only won 6 years ago. I was 67 then. I didn't really need a big fancy house. So I wrote a will. Some of the money is going to my children. The rest, I decided to just give it to charity's, shelters, all that good stuff. But then, William, one of my good friend's sons, alerted me. He told me about you and your "99 Bucket List." And he asked me to give you what's inside that envelope.
   "I had to think about it. In case you didn't know, I have lung cancer. I've had it for awhile, gone through chemo, but the doctors can't really do anything else for me. I had to think about giving you what is inclosed in that envelope. But, at my last appointment, my doctor told me that I had maybe a few more months. I accepted this, I'm old, I have cancer, I understand," he explained.
    "You're going to die?" I asked.
    "Yes, my dear, I am going to die soon," he went on. "So, I only have two kids and a ton of money. I've given a ton to charity already. And now is the part where you open the envelope. But you have to promise me something first."
   I nod. "Yeah, sure."
   "Visit me until I die. My kids live in Utah and New York. They don't know about my sickness. They are unaware that I am dying. I don't want to die alone. So please, visit me until I am gone."
    "Yes, sir. I promise," I confirm.
    "William?"
    "I promise."
   Brian grins. "Good. Now open that envelope."
    I open it the way I always do. This time I am extra careful not to rip the sticker; I liked the stickers he put, and I didn't want to rip it in front of him. When I opened it, I gasped and had to cover my mouth. What was inside the envelope? A sheet of puppy stickers and a check for $200,000.