Mourning Song by Lurlene McDaniel
Dani had rehearsed the speech so many times that even she was beginning to believe it. “It’s as if you’re supposed to do this. While we don’t know who gave you the money for a wish, I think you should use it to get something you’ve always wanted. Listen, even a trillion dollars can’t make you well, but the money you’ve gotten can help you have some fun. I say let’s go for it! You deserve to see the ocean, whether Mom agrees or not. I’m going to help you make your wish come true.”
Published by
Dell Laurel-Leaf
an imprint of
Random House Children’s Books
a division of Random House, Inc. New York
Copyright © 1992 by Lurlene McDaniel
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the written permission of the publisher, except where permitted by law. For information address Dell Laurel-Leaf.
Dell and Laurel are registered trademarks of Random House, Inc.
Visit us on the Web! www.randomhouse.com/teens
Educators and librarians, for a variety of teaching tools, visit us at www.randomhouse.com/teachers
eISBN: 978-0-307-77630-3
RL: 5.0, age 10 and up
A Bantam Book/May 1992
v3.1
CONTENTS
Cover
Title Page
Copyright
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Other Books by This Author
One
“I DON’T BELIEVE you.” Dani Vanoy’s voice shook with anger and disbelief.
“I wouldn’t lie to you or your mother, Dani,” Dr. Phillips answered sadly. “Surely you know that by now.”
Dani glanced at her mother, sitting beside her in the hospital conference room. She wanted her mother to challenge Dr. Phillips and deny what Dani didn’t want to accept. Her mother’s face was chalky white and her voice shook as she asked, “Are you absolutely certain?”
“Cassie’s tumor is malignant and inoperable. We can’t cut it out without killing her,” Dr. Phillips explained. “I’m sorry.”
Dani felt hot and cold, and sick to her stomach. Her sister, Cassie, was only seventeen, just two years older. How could she be dying? Cassie’s problems had started with headaches four months before, in January. The headaches had grown worse. Dani recalled how her sister used to lie on her bed and weep from the pain. Their family doctor, Dr. Cody, had diagnosed migraines and prescribed medication, but the drugs left Cassie feeling no better. The pain persisted.
Then, a few weeks ago, Cassie lost some feeling on her left side. Her eyelid drooped, she stumbled trying to walk, and her speech slurred. She became so dizzy, she couldn’t stand up. Dr. Cody recommended a neurologist, and Mom had taken Cassie to Dr. Nathan Phillips, whom it turned out she had dated in college.
Having Cassie’s condition diagnosed and placing her under the care of an old friend had given Dani’s mom some peace of mind. Dani had spent the last few weeks in a state of panic. How could her sister have headaches one day and then suddenly be totally incapacitated the next? Dr. Phillips had checked Cassie into the hospital. After a series of CAT scans, MRI X rays, and countless other tests, he revealed the results. Cassie had a brain tumor that could not be removed.
“So, if you cut it out, it kills her. And if you leave it alone, it kills her,” Dani said bitterly. “Some choice.”
“Isn’t there anything to be done?” Mrs. Vanoy asked.
“I’ll start her on radiation and chemo immediately, but I’ll be honest—this kind of tumor has a poor response to treatment.”
“What about that gamma knife radiation surgery you told Mom and me about?”
Dr. Phillips’s face looked weary. “Cassie’s tumor is located so deep inside her brain and so close to her brain stem that we cannot risk gamma knife surgery.”
“There must be something you can do, Nathan.” Dani’s mother’s voice was so soft, so desperate that Dani felt chilled to the bone.
Dr. Phillips reached out and took her mother’s hand. “Catherine, this is the toughest moment in a doctor’s professional life. To have to look at a patient’s family and say, ‘There’s nothing I can do.’ I’m supposed to be a healer—a fixer of the human body. I’m not supposed to be telling you that I feel helpless and defeated, but I do, and I am.”
Dani felt tears well in her eyes. Dr. Phillips’s honesty, the catch in his voice as he’d spoken left her with little doubt. Medical science had done everything it could for her sister. Dani recognized death staring at them. She’d seen it once before, when she’d been six, when her father, a policeman, had been killed in the line of duty. She remembered being told that Daddy wasn’t ever coming home again. She’d been overwhelmed with grief and fear, but eventually had realized her mother and sister were still there for her. Now, Cassie was being taken, too. It wasn’t fair. She began to tremble.
“At the very best, all we can do is retard the tumor’s growth,” Dr. Phillips continued.
“That will give her more time,” Dani’s mother said eagerly.
“How much more?” Dani asked.
“Maybe a month or two,” the doctor said.
“Is that all? What kind of help is that?” Dani’s voice was full of anger.
“Every hour she has is a help,” her mother declared. “Who knows, maybe Nathan will think of something else to try. Maybe some new drug or surgical technique will come along. As far as I’m concerned, time means hope.”
Dr. Phillips was still holding Dani’s mother’s hand. Her mom looked up and asked, “Will we be able to bring Cassie home again?”
“Yes, but not until she finishes up initial radiation and chemo.” Dr. Phillips paused as if to choose his next words carefully. “Once she returns home, it won’t be easy for the two of you to care for her by yourselves. Of course, there’s Cincinnati’s hospice group. Or if you want, you can hire a private-duty nurse.”
“I can take care of my sister,” Dani was insistent. In less than three weeks, school would be out for the summer, and she could stay with Cassie full-time.
Her mother nodded. “Dani and I can handle it. My boss understands, and he’ll let me work flexible hours. We want to do this for Cassie. I don’t want strangers caring for her.”
“As the tumor grows, she’ll experience some severe symptoms,” Dr. Phillips said, his voice level and professional. “She’ll lose her faculties, her memory. She may go blind. As she deteriorates, you’ll have to have help with her. The hospice people are professionally trained and very caring, very sensitive.”
“If she starts downhill, I’ll bring her right back to the hospital,” Mom replied. “But as long as we can keep her at home, we will.”
Dani tried to tune out the doctor’s voice. She wanted to detach herself from the conversation. If only she could pretend that she was watching a TV show, that it was some make-believe character they were talking about and not her sister. “She should know, Mom. You should tell Cassie she’s going to die.”
“No.” Her mother’s expression looked deter mined. “She doesn’t need this burden while she??
Dr. Phillips interrupted. “Catherine, it might be wisest to level with Cassie. She’s not a little kid. Sooner or later, she’ll surmise the truth.”
Dani’s mother shook her head stubbornly. “When she has to know, I’ll tell her. But as long as she’s in treatment, I don’t want her told.”
“But, Mom—”
“No.” She cut off Dani’s protest. “Positive mental attitude is important—that’s a fact. If she thinks the treatments are useless, then she really will have no chance.”
Dani understood her mother’s point of view, but still thought she was wrong. Dani was certain Cassie would want to know. She realized that now wasn’t the time to try and persuade her mother to level with Cassie.
“Now, you’ll promise me?” her mother asked.
“I promise not to tell her,” Dani said.
“Not even a hint of negativity.”
“Not a hint.” Dani pressed her lips together and rose. The room had grown stuffy. “I want to go see Cassie now. She’s expecting me.”
Her mom reached out for her, and Dani slipped into her arms. They clung tightly for a moment. “Tell her I’ll be up in a while. I want to talk more with Dr. Phillips.”
Dani nodded, her throat so clogged with tears that she couldn’t speak. She left the conference room and stepped into the busy flow of medical personnel hurrying through the halls. She spun, slipped into a bathroom, and started sobbing. The doctor’s news hit her hard. She hadn’t expected anything so hopeless. Obviously, Dr. Phillips cared for Cassie. He seemed to care for their mother, too. But still, he was only human—only a doctor with limitations. Dani washed her face and tried to pull herself together. She had to go face her sister with no hint of negativity.
Two
AS DANI NEARED her sister’s room, she heard excited giggles and realized some of Cassie’s friends from school were visiting. Dani leaned against the wall outside the room and waited. She heard their chatter about the trip Cassie’s senior class had just made to Florida and felt even sorrier for her sister. Since Disney World, Cape Canaveral, and the beach were only twenty hours away from Cincinnati, it had been the perfect choice for Westview High’s senior class. Cassie had primed their mother about her going ever since she’d been a junior, but she’d been in the hospital when the class had left.
Dani overheard Angela give details of some hunk she met on the beach, and someone else described the fun they’d had. Dani hoped they weren’t tiring Cassie.
Once the girls were gone, Dani went in. She found Cassie propped up in bed, crying. “What’s wrong?”
“My friends were telling me about the senior trip and how much fun they had.” Cassie shrugged miserably. Large, dark circles smudged the fragile skin beneath her brown eyes. Her once long chestnut-color hair had been shaved off for the biopsy. Cassie looked small and vulnerable, like a shorn, helpless lamb. On her bed was a bag from Disney World.
Dani sat on the edge of the bed. “Can I peek?” Cassie nodded, and Dani sorted through the items. There was a stuffed Mickey Mouse toy; a T-shirt that read, “My friends went to Florida, and all I got was this lousy shirt”; and a glass jar full of seawater, sand, and assorted shells. She didn’t know whether to be glad or angry for Cassie’s sake. On the one hand, the gifts only magnified her sister’s sadness over not going, but on the other, it was gratifying to know at least her friends had remembered her.
“There’s this, too,” Cassie said. “It’s a conch shell.” She lifted a large shell that was curled and pointed on one end with a brilliant pink cast that shone with a pearl-like luster in the light.
Dani took it. “Hold it to your ear,” Cassie told her. “You can hear the sound of the sea.”
Dani did, and she heard something that sounded like hollow static. She grinned. “That’s neat.”
“I know.” Cassie covered her face with her hands. “I wanted to go so much.”
Dani wished she had some brilliant words of comfort for Cassie, but she didn’t. She put the shell down on the bed and gave her sister a hug.
Cassie reached for some tissues. “Where’s Mom?” she asked.
“She’ll be up soon. She had to take care of something.” Dani purposefully didn’t look her sister in the eye.
“Don’t let Mom know I was crying. It seems so dumb to be upset about the trip when I’m stuck in the hospital with all these tests. All my life I’ve dreamed about walking the beach and swimming in the waves. It seems like such a small thing to want to see the ocean. Why is this medical mess happening to me?”
“I wish you could’ve gone, too, Cassie. Maybe later this summer.” Dani could hardly keep her voice from breaking as she spoke. Cassie would probably be dead before summer was over.
Cassie blew her nose. “So, tell me.” She smiled. obviously trying to change the subject, “What’s going on at school?”
“I have a research paper due soon. I don’t know what to write about,” Dani answered glumly. “At this rate, I’ll never pass tenth grade.”
“Why don’t you do your paper on brain tumors? I’ll help you. I’m becoming an expert.”
“I think that’s a bad joke. You shouldn’t talk like that,” Dani said.
“If I don’t joke, I’ll cry,” Cassie replied.
Dani felt like crying, too, but knew she had to keep up a cheerful front for Cassie’s sake and because she’d promised her mom.
“Are you cold?” Cassie asked. “You’re shivering.”
“I’m fine. Listen, do you want to watch TV?” Without waiting for an answer, Dani fumbled with the remote control device and flipped on the television braced high in the ceiling corner. A nature program was on, and Dani groaned inwardly. She tried to change the channel as the voice and scene talked about the sea.
“Wait,” Cassie said. “Don’t change the channel. Let’s watch. Perfect timing. We were just talking about the ocean.”
It was a documentary about loggerhead turtles. The host of the show was explaining how the turtles were threatened by extinction because their beachfront nesting sites were being turned into high-rise buildings and condos.
“This is boring,” Dani protested, trying to take her sister’s attention off the subject.
“I want to watch,” Cassie said. Dani resigned herself to watching the program. She only half listened to the plight of the baby turtles as they hatched from buried nests and rushed toward the water and survival. The announcer explained that the turtles were naturally drawn by the light of the moon and stars, but now the glow of artificial lights was sending them instead onto parking lots and highways or into the reach of waiting predators.
“Poor turtles,” Cassie mumbled. “I feel sorry for them.”
“They’re only turtles,” Dani said, wishing Cassie would save her pity for herself.
“They’re victims,” Cassie insisted, and her gaze met Dani’s and held it.
Dani felt her chest tighten. Victims. Like you. The tumor is victimizing you—draining away your life while everyone stands by helplessly.
There was hope for those turtles. For Cassie, there was nothing to be done.
Three
“WHY HAVE YOU been avoiding me all day, Dani?” Austin Cole asked.
Dani jumped. She thought she’d hidden herself from the prying eyes and questions of classmates in the school library. “I’ve got a paper to write,” she mumbled.
Austin placed his hands on each side of her open notebook. “I’ve been watching you. You’ve been staring into space ever since you got here.” Dani looked up at him.
“You have no right to spy on me,” she snapped. She didn’t even know why she was angry at Austin, but she didn’t want to apologize.
“Friends don’t shut friends out,” Austin said gently.
Austin piled up her books. “Come on. Let’s get out of here.”
&n
Austin ignored her and started walking. Dani quickly followed him outside to the parking lot, where he opened the door of his car. He motioned for her to get in. Dani made a face.
“Don’t be stubborn,” Austin warned. “Just get in before I take off with your books.”
With a toss of her red hair, Dani climbed in. Austin settled in the driver’s seat, shoved the car into gear, and headed out away from school.
Dani and Austin had been friends almost since the first day they’d met. She wasn’t sure how Austin always seemed to pick up on her feelings, but he did.
In a high school where money, brains, and beauty counted most, Dani felt poor, dumb, and ugly. Her red hair, fair complexion, and green-brown eyes made her look the opposite of her sister, Cassie. Cassie never seemed to feel out of it, despite the family’s having to struggle to keep up.
Good grades didn’t come easily to Dani, even though she studied hard. Dani was athletic. She preferred sports to academics, and realized early on that her meager baby-sitting earnings didn’t go far toward buying designer clothes worn by most of the girls at Westview. Dani didn’t find much to recommend about her high school experience.
Austin, who’d moved to Cincinnati the year before, had entered Westview High midterm. He’d gone to so many schools growing up, he had been placed with Dani’s class even though he was seventeen and technically a junior. Austin’s parents were missionaries who were now associated with the church Dani and her mother and sister regularly attended. Austin spoke several languages, wore his blond hair in a ponytail, had sky blue eyes, and was good-looking. Dani wasn’t interested in Austin as a boyfriend, really. But she liked having a friend who was a boy.
Austin glanced toward Dani. “Okay … so, I shouldn’t have kidnapped you. But, you avoided me all day, and I figured something’s wrong. What’s up?”
“Nothing’s wrong. I told you, I have a paper due.” She wasn’t ready to spill to anybody what was going on with Cassie. She couldn’t bear to actually say the words.