Authors: Kellie McAllen
The day before the big move, Karen invited Sarah over for one last visit, and even though Sarah thought Karen had no business hosting a coffee klatch when she still had so much work left to do, Karen insisted and Sarah gratefully took the opportunity to have one last chat with her dear friend.
“I brought cookies and this time I didn’t burn them,” Sarah announced with a half-hearted smile as she traipsed into Karen’s kitchen without so much as a knock at the door.
Karen’s head was barely visible over the stack of cardboard boxes that cluttered every surface and Sarah choked on the overwhelming odor of Pine-Sol and bleach.
Karen navigated around the boxes and grabbed Sarah in a hug.
“Thanks for coming, hon.
Sorry for the mess.”
“Is there something I can do to help you?” Sarah offered, glancing anxiously around the room.
“Nah, the only thing I need right now is some girl time and a few minutes of forced relaxation,” Karen joked, pouring coffee into the only two cups left unpacked.
The two sat on boxes and rested their coffee cups on the windowsill beside them as they chatted.
Meanwhile, Jessica was saying her goodbyes to Colby and his brothers.
Her mother had explained to her that this was probably the last time she would see them, but it was hard for her to wrap her head around the idea.
She knew she was starting kindergarten soon and she’d make new friends at school, but she would miss her little Colby terribly when he was gone.
That was how she thought of him, as her Colby, and she suspected that if Colby could talk he would lay the same claim on her.
They had a connection that didn’t make a whole lot of sense to the rest of the world, but there was no one Jessica loved being with more than him.
Michael ached as he watched her say her goodbyes and he tried to do the same.
His hold on her had loosened some in the years since he had been with Colby, but he still loved her so intensely he thought his heart would burst in flames every time he saw her.
Would this really be the last time he saw her angelic smile?
He was supposed to be the angel, but his own glory dimmed in comparison with her perfection.
She was pure joy, and life, and light, and he couldn’t imagine how dark his world would be without her in it.
His heart squeezed as she whispered encouragements in Colby’s ear that could just as easily be meant for him.
“Don’t worry, Colby, you’re gonna have a whole new life in Minnesota!
The doctors are gonna fix you up so everything will be all better.
And you’ll be so happy you won’t even miss me!”
Colby gurgled and flopped his useless limbs.
Jessica wiped the drool from his chin, ignoring the tears dripping from her own.
She straightened his tee shirt and smoothed his hair then planted a kiss on his cheek.
“I got you a present!” she announced, pulling a large doll with black yarn hair from a bag.
“It’s called a Cabbage Patch Kid and we picked out one that looks like me so you’ll have something to remember me by!”
The plastic dimpled cheeks and large brown eyes were cute, but with porcelain skin, silky, coffee-colored hair, and topaz eyes framed by long black lashes, Jessica was the real doll.
Colby waved his arms spastically, trying to reach for the doll, so Jessica tucked it against his chest.
His hands squeezed the soft fabric limbs.
Jessica reached in the bag and pulled out another doll, this one a little boy with a dust mop of brown hair and a set of bibbed overalls.
“Mommy got this one for me, cuz it looks like you!
Now when I go to school, I can pretend you’re going with me!”
Michael stared at the toy in Colby’s hands and tried to imagine himself finding consolation from Jessica’s absence in the doll’s lifeless smile and he knew his heart would only rip wider every time he looked at it.
Soon, Sarah and Karen joined Jessica in Colby’s room and Sarah lifted Colby from his bed for a hug.
Karen took a turn hugging Jessica and before Michael could prepare himself, they were saying goodbye.
Michael felt his soul rip in half as Sarah and Jessica walked out of the room.
The pain was unbearable, a worse agony than he thought possible to survive, and for the first time in three years, Michael left Colby’s side to chase after her.
As they stood at the doorway sliding into their shoes, Michael’s emotions vacillated wildly between his love for Jessica and his duty to Colby.
Every moment of his time with them flashed before his eyes and he relived each precious memory: the anxiety and exhilaration of the day he first saved Jessica, the rush of pride as she learned to walk and talk, the intense love he felt every time he stared into her eyes, the sympathetic pain he endured when she was hurt, and the anguish and heartbreak he felt when he learned of Colby’s injury and made the choice to tear himself away from his one true love in commitment to his duty.
He remembered the joy he felt the first time Colby smiled and the happiness Colby brought to everyone around him despite his disability.
He relived the pleasure he saw in Colby’s eyes every time he watched his brothers play, never once acting sad that he couldn’t join in their antics.
Finally, he imagined the possibilities of Colby’s future if the doctors at the children’s hospital could restore any of the functions he had lost.
And in that brief moment of hope, he was able to hold himself back as Sarah and Jessica walked out the door and out of his life completely.
He collapsed in agony as he heard their van pull away and it took every ounce of strength he had to drag himself to Colby’s room for a glimpse of the only thing in the whole world that could convince him not to chase after Jessica and never leave her side.
Colby cooed and giggled as Michael approached his bed, almost as if he could see him, and Michael knew he had made the right choice.
He pushed every thought of Jessica out of his mind and concentrated on nothing but the sound of Colby’s breathing — the wet, ragged gasps that punctuated the mournful silence with the sound of a life that deserved to be protected.
chapter nine
”Mom!
Did you buy some Cherry Coke for the picnic?” Casey hollered from the top of the stairs, knocking over a Slinky that somersaulted down the steps, its shiny metal coils zipping apart and whisking back together melodically as it fell.
“Yes, honey, I got everything you wanted!” Karen hollered back, busy filling the cooler with snacks and drinks.
“Did you pack everything in the van like I asked?”
“Umm, not quite yet…,” Thirteen year old Casey mumbled and shuffled off to load the family van with lawn chairs, blankets, and Colby’s stroller.
It was the 4th of July, 1985, and the Conrad family had big plans for the day that included a cookout with friends, a trip to the movies to see
Back To The Future
, and of course, fireworks after dark. Eleven year old Corey was in charge of Colby, and Michael was on high alert because Corey was a lot more interested in the Atari game Christopher and Caleb were playing than he was in watching his youngest brother.
When the food was packed, Karen peeked into the playroom to check on the boys and saw five year old Colby propped up in a bean bag chair in the play room, his limp mouth leaking a trickle of drool on his shoulder as he and Corey watched Pac-Man avoid the ghosts and gobble up dots while making his way through the maze.
Colby still couldn’t say any real words but had recently started mimicking the beeps, bloops, and wakka wakka sound effects of the boys’ favorite game.
Unable to talk or walk or feed himself, after months of therapy he could at least move his arms and legs more than ever before.
He couldn’t hold himself upright in a normal chair, but the beanbag in the playroom supported him enough that he could watch the action.
Colby giggled and squealed as his brothers played, waving his arms in excitement every time they cheered.
The Cabbage Patch doll Jessica had given him lay on his lap, the yarn hair frayed and tangled and the plastic face dirty from two years of constant use.
Colby didn’t go anywhere without his Jessica, and Karen wondered whether he still remembered the friend who had given it to him or if his attachment was solely towards the doll now.
Karen used to think of her friend every time she saw the doll, but it had been several months since the two women had talked and several weeks since Karen had even given Sarah a passing thought.
I should give her a call, Karen thought briefly, but a glance at the clock told her it would have to wait.
Last she heard, the Reynolds were thinking about moving into a bigger house in a better part of town and Karen wondered if she would even be able to reach her.
She scolded herself for not doing a very good job of maintaining the friendship.
“Time to go, boys,” Karen announced, fully expecting their response.
“Just a minute, Mom, I’m beating my high score!” Christopher replied, eyes glued to the screen.
Karen was used to waiting for Pac-Man to die, and sure enough, a few minutes later the tell-tale wha-wha-wha-wha-waaaa sound announced a brief release from the aggressive hold of her son’s video game obsession.
“Turn it off, boys, and get in the car,” Karen insisted, scooping up her youngest and balancing his undersized body on her hip.
Sometimes she worried about what she would do when Colby was too big to lift.
Maybe if I just keep lifting him every day I’ll be strong enough to carry him even when he’s full grown, Karen thought with a chuckle and grunted as she readjusted her load.
She already felt like she had a permanent curve in her spine from thirteen years of lugging children around on her waist.
Squeezing the whole family in one vehicle was always a challenge, especially with accoutrement in tow, so Karen was grateful it was only a short ride to the home of their new friends, Tim and Susan Walker.
The Walkers had three daughters whose ages fell right in-between those of the Conrad boys, and their youngest child, Derrick, had CP.
The two families had met in a support group meeting and their commonalities quickly drew them together, but this was the first time they had planned a get-together outside the walls of the hospital.
The boys were excited for the opportunity to swim in the Walker’s pool, Calvin was looking forward to a game of driveway basketball with Tim, and Karen was anxious for some girl time with someone who understood exactly what her life was like.
Michael, of course, was ecstatic to get out of the house and go somewhere other than the hospital.
With sunny skies and warm, summer weather, it was shaping up to be a perfect afternoon.
Tim and Susan met them at the door when they arrived and ushered them out to the back patio where they were greeted by an expanse of sparkling blue water, a cacophony of screaming children, and the smell of hamburgers sizzling on the grill.
“Mom, can we go swimming now?” the younger boys begged, jumping up and down in their matching red, white, and blue striped swim trunks, their skinny little chests still white compared to their tanned limbs.
The oldest Walker daughter, Heather, a sassy twelve year old in a neon, color block two piece, climbed out of the water and made her way towards Casey who covered his scrawny chest with his arms self-consciously but offered her a shy smile.
“Let’s put some sunblock on you first,” Karen insisted, digging out the Coppertone and squirting a generous gob on each boy’s back.
“Help each other rub it in,” she encouraged, wiping the excess from her fingers onto Colby’s cheeks and nose.
When the kids were sufficiently slathered, Karen plopped down on a lounge chair next to Susan and her son, Derrick, and signed in relief.
It wasn’t often she got time just to relax and enjoy herself.
Soon, the kids would be clamoring for something to eat and there would be plates to fill and messes to clean, but for the next few minutes she planned to prop up her feet and bask in the sunshine.
Susan smiled in understanding at the look of bliss on Karen’s face and raised her can of soda in a toast.
Michael was pretty excited himself about the day’s activities.
He’d never been to a pool party before, but it was fascinating and terrifying at the same time.
He loved the smell of the chlorine and the colorful beach balls floating on the clear blue water, but all the kids were jumping and splashing and diving without a care in the world and Michael was petrified something bad was going to happen to one of them.
For once he was actually glad that Colby was confined to his stroller and wasn’t at risk of slipping on the wet patio or drowning in the deep pool.
“Go swimmin’?” Derrick begged his mom a few minutes later, tugging on her shirt sleeve, his big blue eyes impossible to resist.
The chubby six year old was a lot less handicapped than Colby, but his slurred speech and uneven gait set him apart from his siblings.