He Became The Bad Boy

Nicotine Sucks

When I walk into the master bedroom that my grandparents occupy and see the thin figure covered in what seemed to be five winter blankets, tears start to pour down my face on their own accord.

I'm taken back in time, to when I was a sophomore and my friend Dale's father became sick and was diagnosed with Leukemia. Within a year he became a shell of the man he used to be, and seemed to shrink down into a pile of skin and bones until one day even the lose skin and bones could contain his soul no longer and he departed in his sleep as quiet as a feather landing on a bed of snow.

My grandfather, frail and shivering, hugs me back with all the strength he can muster up.

His face is thinner than I remember, eyes sunken and the circles underneath reveal the shape of his sockets. The skin on his arms are hanging loose and he has marks all over his skin.

The reality of what will most likely happen to him hits me like a train and I start sobbing even more. He pats my back with his shriveled hand gently to calm me down.

I have no words to explain the utter despair that's crushing my heart at this moment so I hold on to him even tighter.

Harry is holding on tightly to my sweater, and I can tell he's very scared.

It takes all my energy to peel myself away from my sick grandfather. I wipe my tears off and take my little brother's hand.

"Harry this is Babu. Remember him?" I ask softly.

"Hi Babu," Harry says in a tiny voice. "What happened to him?" He asks me in a confused whisper.

Baby just smiles and gently lifts him up onto the bed. I settle the blankets comfortably around him.

My grandfather used to be big and strong. He used to have a seemingly endless supply of energy and a never-ending list of jokes and nicknames for everyone he met. And his appetite could rival that of a bear. He had a loud voice and an even louder laugh, which was what he often did. He was also the kindest man, known to give the shirt off his back if he thought someone needed it more without thinking twice. So many times my mom sent him presents and he'd give them away before even opening them. And many nights he would be out fixing things or driving people who had no access to public or private transportations in times of emergency situations.

But as I look at him now, it was like looking at a shriveled up stranger. His beard that he always colored a bright fiery red had dulled into as sad ashy gray.

And the reality that I was hesitant to face was staring at me in the form of the perfectly round circle in the middle of his throat. Babu had just been diagnosed with stage four throat cancer. He had a 9cm tumor growth that had completely blocked his voice box and rendered him voiceless for the rest of his life. However long that was. Cue the tears.

As soon as my mom broke the news, I turned in my two-week notice at my work and started to prepare for my trip. Harry was included too because he had missed my grandmother and cried for days asking to come along.

"Earth to Hana," Raina interrupted my train of thought. She dragged me out of the room. "Babu is fine, Hana. It's all God's plan, we just have to keep him as comfortable and love him more with the extra time we have left with him. It could have been worse. At least we get to spend time with him. And stop crying you'll scare Harry."

She pushes me into a beautiful lavender bedroom. I stop to admire the decor, discreetly wiping away the new tears.

She examines a drawer then throws some clothes at my face. "Here, change into these. The shower is in through that door over there. And put on some makeup but make it so natural that no one knows you have any on. Not that you need any, sweetie. But people here will not pick on anything and everything and first impressions are the most important. There are people coming to see you and then gossip about it after they leave. The whole country knows you've arrived by now so they should be here in the next half hour cause, you know, news spreads faster than gonorrhea around here. See you when a goat bleats."