"No. That works. The sperm can"t get through my clogged tubes."
"So we won"t have to worry much about me getting pregnant. You"re the perfect guy for a mutant like me."
"Last spring after they saved me, I tested antibiotic resistant. I guess they used too much of that new stuff. That meant I had to go inactive on the transplant list until they can fix me."
"So you"ll get better without them cutting you up?" I like the sound of that.
"Impossible."
"What?" I"m not believing him. "You did last spring-"
"That helped me . . . for a while. Mum"s trying to get me reinstated on the active list. I don"t think I"m going to make it."
I lay my face on his pillow. "Yes-you are." Derek dying? No way. It"s not real. I won"t let him. I kiss his salty face. "You are going to stay right here and do everything the doctors tell you to do."
"Story of my life." He shakes his head.
"You are never riding that motorcycle again. I"m going to sit beside you and make sure it happens."
He opens one eye. "In that dress?"
I glance down. "Do I look like a fool?"
"You"re gorgeous. You don"t have to stay. I already have a mum."
I stand up. "But you"ve been so stupid. Look at all the time we wasted."
"I thought you had school and your choir?"
"If we only have until you"re thirty-seven-"
"Beth, stop-" He reaches out, and my cold hand meets his fevered one.
I bend over him and press my lips on his salty, dry mouth. "Your mom can"t do that." I kiss him again. "You don"t want to see the scene I"ll pitch if somebody tries to make me leave."
"You"ll stay for my sponge baths?"
"If they"ll let me help."
"I"ll get the nurses to train you-right away."
"You talk dirty when you"re helpless."
"It"s all I can do." He grins, but the pain and bitterness are back in his voice. He pushes a white b.u.t.ton pinned to his bed where he can easily reach.
A nurse appears.
"Hey, Meg. This is Beth. You think you can find her some scrubs? She says she"s moving into my lair."
The nurse, Meg, smiles at me. "I"ll be right back."
I change in Derek"s bathroom. The pants are way short and surgical green doesn"t help my bright-red face much. I stare at my hideous reflection and promise myself Derek will never see me cry again. I wash my face and fix it best I can. Nothing close to beautiful.
I call our home phone. Good, Mom doesn"t answer. I manage to say, "Derek"s in the hospital in London. I met his mom. She"s letting me stay over. He"ll be fine," all in a fairly normal voice. I turn off my cell-hospital rules.
I hang my gown in his closet next to his tux.
Meg looks up from where she"s working on Derek"s IV. "I"d like to see you two at the ball."
"We sing," Derek says.
"Together?"
I swallow the lump in my throat and nod. I hope we can do that again. Wherever and whenever he wants.
Meg leaves us alone.
"My mum came back while you were changing. She was relieved you didn"t strangle me."
I sit down in the chair. It"s still where I left it close by his bed.
"I told her you wouldn"t leave."
"What did she say?"
"Thank you. She"s going home to sleep in her own bed."
My eyes dart around the room, expecting to find his mom hiding somewhere. "How can she leave you here alone like that? What if-?"
"You"re here."
"Me ?" She doesn"t even know me.
Derek coughs. I can tell it hurts. He gasps for a minute.
I stand there helpless.
He whispers, "If I turn blue in the middle of the night, buzz for Meg."
"You"re already blue, babe."
"Bluer."
"That"s not funny." I want to hit his arm, but I don"t dare. "I"m not staying if you"re going to do that."
"But Mum"s counting on you." He"s not joking. "She needs a break. I knew you were bluffing."
I go over to the door and look up and down the hall. It"s empty. I turn around. "They"re leaving us together-all night? Is that allowed?"
"I"m kind of helpless here. I"m sure they figure you"re safe."
"What about you?" I shut the door, lean against it with my hands pinned behind my back. "You"re too weak to run away from me again."
"You ran away from me."
My eyes drop to the floor.
"I don"t blame you, Beth. Who"d want this?"
I cross the room to his bed. "I won"t this time." I plant my lips on his salty neck.
He whispers in my ear, "Probably a bit more excitement than I can survive."
I pull back-am I hurting him?
He manages a weak smile. "But that would be a good way to go. Do you want to take out my catheter or should I?"
I"m not sure if I"m laughing or crying. "You"re gross."
"I tried to protect you as long as I could."
I slide back in the chair and try to get comfortable, cross my arms, and prepare to stare at him all night.
"What are you doing?"
"Settling in to watch for blueness."
He slides over in his bed. "I"ll share."
"What if I get tangled up in your catheter?"
"Stay on your side."
I climb onto the bed and lie down next to him, roll on my side so I can study his face.
He pushes a b.u.t.ton and the lights go out.
I kiss his forehead. "Good night."
"I can"t sleep. Do you think-"
"I"m not touching that catheter."
"Could you sing to me?" He caresses my face.
I close my eyes. And sing.
I take me down to the river,
The sweet, sweet river Jordan,
Stare across the muddy water,
And long for the other side.
His fingers trace my cheekbones and eyebrows, they play over my lips while I sing, Take me home, sweet, sweet Jesus. / And wrap me in your bosom- His hand draws away. I pause, open my eyes, he nods, and I sing, Lord, I long for the other side.
Does he long for release like that slave girl? Is that why he loves this song? Is that why he loves my voice? Take me home, take me home, take me home.
No. Not allowed. He"s not going anywhere. I change my tune, hum our duet. Sing to him, It"s gotta be, it"s gotta be about you, you, you, you. . . .
I raise a kaleidoscope up to my eye,
Twist it once and watch the bright colors fly, and the picture is so
clear-