Sadness and Sunshine

Chapter 2

*Frank's voice soon lulled me to sleep. I hadn't gotten any decent sleep since God knows when. I wrapped my arms around him as tightly as I could and held him all through the night. When I woke up, he was gone. I looked in all the reasonable places for him, but he was nowhere to be found. I sat on the bed and waited for the nurse to come in, hoping she knew where he was, or anything else about him. A few minutes later, she came in, surprised to see me sitting there.

"You're already awake? Something must have happened," she said with a hint of jokingness in her voice.

Something had definitely happened but I wasn't sure if I could tell her. Frank and I barely knew each other and it was probably against the rules to share rooms. I was mostly worried about Frank in general.

"Have you heard of anyone from the cancer ward named Frank? He talked to me last night," I asked, hoping for an answer.

The nurse just looked at me strangely for a moment, more strangely than before. She told me to tell her things I knew about him, so I did, like the fact that he had terminal stomach cancer and he was in his mid-thirties. I asked her if she knew where I could find him and she told me to check the West Hall in the cancer ward.

My eyes lit up. I wanted to get up and leave right then and there and go find him, but she wouldn't let me.

"Sit down, child. You're not going anywhere until you eat something. This place has strict rules and guidelines, you know that," she said sternly, making me sit back down.

I sighed. The nurse, Lorraine, was a nice lady, a big African American woman who always wore her hair in a bun. All the other patients on the floor hated her but she'd always been nice to me. I did as she said and waited a little while to go find Frank. I was almost tempted to take her with me so I could introduce them to each other, but she was busy. As soon as I had the chance, I left my room and headed to the cancer ward. The West Hall was mostly empty except for a nurse walking down the hallway much quicker than I could catch up with. I wandered around for a while until I found another nurse, just standing there with a folder of papers in her hand, leaning on the receptionist's counter. I was nearly too nervous to go up to her. She looked in my direction and spoke to me in a strangely soothing tone.

"Are you lost?" she asked.

I shook my head, but I was kind of lost. I told her I was looking for someone. She couldn't help me without knowing Frank's last name. He hadn't told me his last name, so she told me to check the West Hall. I headed back that way and searched up and down for any room that could possibly be Frank's. I was beginning to wonder if Frank was even treated at this hospital. For some reason I started to curse him in my mind. I just kept thinking angry things about him, going as far as wishing he was dead. I wound up falling to the floor and leaning against a wall, crying and apologizing to Frank. I didn't expect to hear his voice, but it came to me. I heard him in waves at first, but then suddenly he was right next to me, kneeling beside me and wrapping his arm around me.

"Don't cry," he said. "I'm here now, and I'm gonna try to make it better, I promise."

I nodded and let him lift my head up with his cold hand. He wiped my eyes with his bony fingers and smiled warmly at me, instantly making me feel better. I grabbed onto him and apologized profusely, telling him over and over that I didn't want him to die. Frank's eyes flashed light green in the bright lights of the hallway; he stayed silent. I listened to him breathe and moved my hand around his chest to find his heartbeat. I smiled weakly when I finally got a pulse and held him tighter.

"Enjoy it while its there," he seemed to say without even talking.

I looked down and stared at his shoes. He was wearing Vans, exactly like a pair that I had back at home. Frank's were much more worn and dirty than mine. I looked back up at his eyes; they seemed to say so much. He was an old soul in a small sickly body. There was a lot going on in that moment of silence between us. Frank's eyes seemed to tell me his whole life story. They were very heavy lidded and tired looking, light green with hints of orange- gorgeous hazel. He had very soft facial features that made him look younger than he really was. His smile- and he smiled often- was enough to bring light to any kind of situation. I felt safe with Frank.

*We sat there on the floor for a long time. Neither of us said very much but sometimes silence can say a lot more than words. Sometimes he made small sighing noises and groaned with pain, bringing my attention to his stomach, which was undoubtedly slowly killing him. I put my hand on his stomach again like that would heal it; it unfortunately never did but it gave him slight comfort. Frank grabbed my hand and gently pushed it into his belly. I felt a slight bit of warmth radiating from him and I smiled; it made me think that maybe he was okay and that he would live.

He broke the silence with a giggle. Nothing funny had happened, but his giggle was so adorable and contagious that I couldn't help but giggle with him.

"What's so funny, Frankie?," I asked him curiously.

Frank shook his head and leaned against the wall, sitting upright. He wiped his eyes before speaking to me.

"Oh, nothing," he began as he turned to face me. "I'm just really happy and comfortable right now."

I was so glad to hear that. I grabbed his hands and gave them a gentle squeeze. Frank's hands were so soft; they were a little bit rough and callused and it was obvious to me that he was a guitar player. I hadn't looked at his body in real detail yet, so when I looked at his hands I was a little surprised that they were totally covered in tattoos. I soon discovered that his whole body was nearly completely covered in ink. I examined his hands for a while and asked him what everything meant. He pulled his hands away gently and sighed, tilting his head to the side and looking up at the bright lights in the ceiling.

"A simpler time," he said softly.

I could understand that; he'd probably had a good life before the diagnosis. I wasn't going to ask him about it, but he opened up to me. He still seemed okay then, his eyes focused on me and reading my facial expression to see if I was paying attention. It made me giggle; Frank smiled.

"I have a wife and kids, and we're still close. I'm just here so I can get better now. It hurts sometimes; its always hurt to be away from them, but at least here they can come see me," he stopped there for a moment, thinking.

I let him take his time, watching him as he played with the buttons on his beige cardigan. He was so small and fragile but at the same time so strong.

"I haven't seen... My family hasn't come in for a while. Probably a few weeks? It's very unlike them. I suppose..." he trailed off.

I tilted my head, a little bit confused. He had on a wedding ring. Surely his wife wouldn't just ditch him. My thoughts were cut short when a nurse came up to us, looking unhappy that we were sitting on the floor.

"Excuse me," she said. "These hallways need to be kept clear of patients. I'm going to have to ask you to go back to your rooms."

Frank looked down at the floor and then at me. I could tell he didn't want to go back; I didn't either. But rules were rules, and I helped Frank to his feet. After giving him a hug, I told him that he could visit me whenever he wanted. The nurse was still right behind us so I made sure to stay quiet. Frank looked absolutely crushed that we had to go separate ways for a while. We headed back to our rooms and I made it back just in time for Lorraine to come check on me.

"Did you find him?" she asked me, seeming slightly curious.

I nodded, sitting down on my bed and watching as Lorraine checked to make sure I had everything. I didn't feel so great; I didn't understand why Frank's family would do that to him. I wanted to make sure he had a good friend and someone to rely on. He was so sick too, and we both knew anything could happen.

"What's wrong, child? Is he okay?" she asked, clearly pretty concerned.

I wanted to voice how I felt but before I had the chance to, Lorraine said the set of words I didn't want to hear.

"Your therapist wants to see you, whenever you're ready. You know where to find him. My shift is over, sweetheart. I hope Frank makes it."

After Lorraine left, I stayed in my room. I wanted to stay there with my thoughts. I didn't want to be alone, I just wanted to be there in case Frank needed to come see me. My head was buzzing with thoughts again.

I don't want Frank to die.

I can't help him. Do I need him?

This is pointless.