Into the Light

“I know for a fact you are trying to receive funding for your new center in Sydney. I would be more than happy to assist if you give me what I’m looking for.”

There was a deadly silence. “What exactly do you want to know, Mr. Edwards?”

“Why is this bill for Elijah Evans’s treatment so low? I know the chemo treatment is quite pricey.”

More silence “Mr. Evans refused the treatment.”

What did he just say?

“I…I don’t understand…Why on earth would he do that?”

He let out a sigh, “Mr. Evans refused the treatment because the cancer is quite aggressive.”

“Wha...what do you mean?” I knew what he meant as I stammered on my words; I just refused to believe it.

“It’s stage four. He has maybe a year left. He wanted to enjoy what time he has left.”

The phone slipped out of my hands, the voice echoing as it called out through the speaker.

“Mr. Edwards, are you there?”

“I’m here…” those were the last words I spoke to him before hanging up the phone like I was on auto-pilot.

I no longer felt in control of what the fuck the universe was trying to do to our lives. There was no plan; how could there be a plan when Elijah no longer fought to live? I wanted to reach out to Charlotte, but I didn’t want her to carry the burden with her. For hours I sat staring at my screen, trying to figure out what the hell it was that I needed to do, until the answer that was there all along presented itself. I called my dad; with heavy crackling on the line he answered. I demanded he come home straight away; it was a family crisis and when times like this occurred, we all needed to be together to get through it. Family, it was all we had at this moment.

…

We sat in my parents’ living room, waiting for Adriana and Elijah to show up. Eric was taking care of Amelia for the night; I thought it was best that she wasn’t here. She may have been too young to have any clue as to what was going on but I didn’t want any negative energy around her. I had told Charlotte what I had discovered and as I predicted she was upset, crying for days along with my mother. She would ramble on about something her mother read in her tarot cards, but I was quick to shut her down, angry with her for seeking help from a woman who, in my eyes, was full of shit.

My father tried his best to remain strong but I could see that it had aged him. For the past few days we had spent hours locked in his den, trying to find any treatment that would cure him, but deep inside we knew it was a lost cause. Only a miracle could save him and the power of prayer to God almighty.

The important thing (he kept reminding us) was that we had to remain strong for Adriana. Elijah still hadn’t breathed a word to Adriana and she was gullible enough to believe it was a nasty virus that was consuming him.

Elijah knew why we called this intervention and the moment he walked into the room I knew we didn’t have long. He looked gaunt, especially standing next to Adriana, who was in her third trimester. The healthy glow was missing from his face, his were eyes deeply sunken and only a hint of color remained in them. His hair had thinned out, but he had shaved his head, the excuse being the LA heat.

“Sweetie.” My mom called Adriana to take a seat beside her. I knew how much my mom was hurting as she turned to look at me, a silent, desperate plea to prepare ourselves for the worst.

“Can we make this quick? Elijah isn’t feeling the best.” Adriana allowed my mom to hold onto her as they sat side by side on the couch.

“Adriana…” My dad looked over to Elijah; I knew how terrified he was, knowing he had to tell the women he loved who was carrying his baby that she would soon be alone. The thought alone made me almost violently ill. Remain strong, Lex. Adriana needs you.

“Adriana,” Elijah knelt down in front and whispered so softly we could barely hear the words “I lied to you. It’s not a virus…the cancer is back.”

Adriana raised her head and turned to look at Elijah, then back at all of us. She let out a small laugh followed by an even louder one. We remained quiet until she realized we weren’t laughing along with her. “Wha...what do you mean the cancer is back…is this some sort of sick joke? What is the date? Is it April Fool’s or something? Wait, am I being punked? That’s it, right?”

“Adriana…” I murmured.

“Lex… you hate practical jokes. Tell me it’s a joke, a sick, twisted, cruel joke?”

With my face sullen, I did my best to maintain eye contact with her so she understood this wasn’t a joke. I watched as her face morph

ed into disbelief and abruptly she turned her focus back to Elijah.

“Stage four, Adriana. It’s too late,” Elijah explained, his voice tone flat. It was his shield that he carried, the armor of protection that gave him the strength that he needed; it was his coping mechanism.

The blood drained from her face as his words sunk in. Her body recoiled, her hands automatically flying to her stomach; the trembling started. “What do you mean, ‘too late’?!” This time she yelled the words out.

“Adriana, baby girl, stage four means he has only a few months to live.” My dad found the voice that Elijah had finally lost.