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by Kimberly Atwood
Prologue: Alexandria
When I first heard about Lukas, I was propped up in my hospital bed, thinking; ignoring the pounding pain in the back of my head. Hercules was playing on the TV above my bed, but I wasn’t really watching it. It was just background noise to add on to the noise that was already echoing in my mind. My mom was sitting on a chair in the corner of my room, reading, when all of a sudden, she blurted, “Lukas is going to die.”
Her abruptness jerked me out of my thoughts, and I turned to give her a confused look. “What?” She nodded toward the TV, and I reached for the remote and turned it off. “Who is Lukas?”
“The boy down the street.” Her eyes seemed hallow. “I talked to his mom earlier today.”
I racked my brain for a face to put with the name. Finally, recognition began to set in. They moved down the road from us several years ago, but he and I never crossed paths much. He went to the public high school across town, and I was home-schooled. At least, I was, before the doctors found the tumors. “What’s wrong with him?” I asked. I hurt for him a little bit, but not too much. I mean, I didn’t even know him.
“He has a weak heart. From what Mrs. Bradford told me, this was a very sudden development, but it’s bad. The doctors say he doesn’t have much longer to live.” My mom shook her head back and forth. “His poor mother. He’s her only child, you know.”
I frowned, shifting in my bed to a more upright position. “Isn’t there anything they can do? Medicine, treatment, surgery?”
My mom shrugged and picked her book back up off her lap. “The only sure answer is a heart transplant.” After seeing the relief in my face, my mom shook her head. “It isn’t that easy, Alex.” She put her book back down on the seat next to her and moved to the chair closest to my bed. “Based on the way he is wired, they would need a live heart for the transplant, and most people aren’t willing to give their life for someone they don’t even know, even someone they do.”
I was quiet for a minute, letting that process. “Where is Lukas now?”
“He’s just a few rooms down from you, actually.” She smiled. “He’s spending his last few days with his family.”
“Can I see him?”
The book clambered to the floor, and my mom’s jaw dropped. “You… what?”
“Can I see him?” I asked again.
My mom was speechless. Her mouth opened, but the words she was trying to say just wouldn’t come.
I reached for my bed remote and pushed the button for the nurse. A few minutes later, a very frantic red-haired nurse ran in. “Is everything okay, Alexandria?”
I nodded. “My neighbor is staying a few rooms down from me. He doesn’t have much longer.” I sat up best I could and tried to look well. “Can I see him?”
The nurse just stared at me. “You, you want to get up?”
I nodded again.
She seemed confused. “Just yesterday you didn’t even have the strength to eat.” She glanced over to my mom.
My mom shrugged, still flabbergasted. The nurse called in the doctor and explained the situation. He looked me over, then pulled my mom to the side. I couldn’t make out exactly what they were saying, but I knew it had something to do with me not having a lot of time left. Sure enough, when their conversation had ended, my mom sighed and nodded slowly.
The doctor turned at smiled at me. “Well, let’s go see this boy, shall we?”
I had woken up several minutes ago but couldn’t open my eyes. Not yet. There was something pleasant about the dark, not knowing what’s going on around you, just spending time in the here and now, without distractions. In the dark, my mind could wander. The world seemed far away. Here, I could be myself.
For I knew the moment I opened my eyes, reality would set in. I would once again be in the hospital room I had been in for about a week now. I would once again have to feel the wires and machinery above my chest and invading my arms. I would have to see the ceiling lights shining a little too harsh against the bland hospital walls surrounding me. I would have to see my mom by my bedside, dark circles shadowing her eyes and tear stains lining her cheeks. I would have to hear the many footsteps echoing down the hall, wishing so terribly that I could join them, that I could be healthy and well once again. I would have to hear the machines whirring by my head, reminding me of my dependence on them to survive because I wasn’t strong enough on my own. My heart was too weak to even keep itself alive, let alone the rest of me. I would have to smell the vomit from the room next door, mixed with the nurse’s far too floral perfume. I would have to come to terms with the reality that I was going to die, and I wasn’t ready for that.
I heard a light tap on the door. Soon, I felt cool fingertips rest lightly on my arm.
“Lukas?” the floral nurse whispered, “You have a visitor.”
I slowly let my eyelids drift apart, focusing on the naked ceiling. Well, here I was. Lukas Alexander Peterson, the boy with the failing heart, the boy who was possibly only a few days away from death. Now that my eyes were open, reality hit like a knife, and I felt an excruciating pain in my chest. I turned my head slowly towards the nurse. She looked at me sympathetically and handed me the next dose of my painkillers. “Here,” she cooed. I swallowed them eagerly as the nurse took a step towards the door. “Should I let her in?”
I shrugged slowly, not feeling well enough to speak. The nurse nodded and pulled open the door.
In walked my doctor, followed by two people I did not recognize: a girl about my age, and an older woman, who I assumed to be her mother. The girl had a metal walker in front of her, with many tubes and wires dangling from it and attached to multiple different places on her body. Over her mouth she wore a paper mask, either to keep germs out or keep them in -- of which I was not sure. She didn’t have much hair, and what hair she did have was short and stringy. She was incredibly thin and seemed exhausted. As she slowly approached my bed, I could tell every step was a burden for her. I knew she didn’t have much longer, like me. Sick kids always seem to connect over this.
“Hi.”
Her voice was quiet and shaky, but she was not shy, that I could see plainly. Her eyes drifted across my feeble frame, and immediately I felt my face flush. But her eyes were not filled with judgement, only understanding.
“We’re neighbors.” She took a deep breath and paused. I raised my eyebrows, the only way I could press her for more. “I live down the street from you.” She reached up and peeled the mask from her mouth, and her words became a lot clearer. “You’re in a lot of pain, aren’t you?”
Her question took me by surprise. Usually my visitors tried to talk about anything but my health, trying to make it look like I'd bounce back any day now. But I knew I wouldn't. As taken aback as I was, I appreciated her honesty. The doctor shook his head to discourage her, but I slowly put up my hand. My breaths were small and shaky. My lungs were panicking at the lack of blood and oxygen. I struggled to push out a response. “…Yeah.”
She leaned forward onto her walker. “What’s wrong with you, anyway?”
I blinked hard at her, trying to decide if I wanted to answer. “Terminal heart failure.” Another shaky breath. “You?”
“Cancer,” she responded simply. She cocked her head slightly to the right. “Are there any treatments?”
I shook my head and coughed again. “Not really.”
We were both quiet after that. I slowly pushed myself up to a sitting position to get a better look at her. She was a pretty girl, I was sure, without the pale face, stringy hair, and skimpy hospital gown. Her eyes were kind but distant, and I couldn’t help but wonder how long she had been sick.
Finally, she brought her eyes to mine once again. “You’re going to die, aren’t you?”
The girl’s mother shrieked and grabbed her daughter’s wrist, quickly chastising her for her ‘brash tongue.’ The doctor looked at me apologetically, as if her comment was somehow his fault. But I wasn’t mad, not really. I just stared at her. Who was this girl who seemed to read me so easily? Who was this girl who could make my impending doom seem… lovely? Her eyes never left mine, and I couldn't bring myself to look away, either. I knew that I would have to accept the truth that I had been ignoring, even hiding from. “Y-yeah.”
She didn’t speak again after that. Her mom cocked her head, almost ask if to ask, Is that all? She nodded at her mom and began to head back for the door, saying nothing more to me. She was leaving, almost as quickly as she had come. I didn’t even have the strength to beckon for her to stay, or even ask her name. I just watched as she slowly walked out the door and out of sight, never looking back.
The doctor walked over to me. “I am so sorry about that.” He frowned. “If I had known, I wouldn’t have let her come over.” He sighed and wrote something down on his clipboard. “It’s just that she doesn’t have much longer, you know?” And with that, the doctor gave me a sympathetic smile and headed for the door with the nurse, leaving me with a whirlwind of questions I didn’t have the strength to ask.
Mom pulled into the driveway and turned the car off. She smiled. “Need a minute?”
I nodded.
Seeming to understand, she gave me a kiss on the forehead and headed into the house. My hands drifted to my chest, to the heart that had only recently become mine, and my mind began to wander. Who was this person that had given up their heart, and their life, for mine? What made my life worth saving? I had pestered the doctor to spill, but all he would tell is that the donor wished to remain anonymous.
I slowly eased my way out of the car and onto my feet, eager to be home again, but slightly hesitant. I pulled my bag out of the trunk and made my way up the back steps. My mom smiled at me when I entered the kitchen. “Are you okay?”
I nodded. “I’m just going to chill in my room, okay?”
“Sure honey. Just be careful. Your body is still growing accustomed to your heart.”
“Sure.” I turned and trekked up the steps. My bedroom door was slightly ajar, and it only took a slight nudge of it to jerk all of my emotions out of place. I took a good look around. Everything was just how I left it. And to think, I almost didn’t come back. Slowly, everything that had taken place over the past few weeks started welling up inside of me. I wasn’t sure how I was supposed to feel. I collapsed onto my bed, exhausted in every meaning of the word. My tears broke free from their restraints and streamed down my cheeks. My arms began to shake as I pulled my pillow close to my chest. My heart was an animal, pounding on its cage, demanding to be set free, screaming, “I am alive! I am alive!” And I was. I was very much alive, and because of that, someone else was not. It was no longer my life, I realized. It was theirs. I was no longer Lukas Alexander Peterson. So then, who was I to become?
The second the bell rang, I leapt out of my seat and flew to my locker, wanting to get out of school as soon as I could. I packed my backpack and rushed out the door, maneuvering my way to the front of all the other 9th graders. I slowed down a bit once I was outside and turned toward the oval, where all the buses parked after school. “Lukas, wait up!”
I turned to see a classmate, Grayson, running after me. I rolled my eyes and sighed. I had hardly spoken to him Grayson before, but suddenly, I was the new fad. I slowed my step and let him catch up. “’Sup?”
“How you doin’, man?” He playfully punched my shoulder. “I haven’t seen you since you, like, almost died.”
I shrugged and adjusted my backpack on my shoulder. “Yeah, it’s been awhile, I guess.” I began to walk quickly again, for fear of missing the bus. It always seemed to be ten minutes ahead. Grayson followed close behind, like a puppy awaiting a command.
“So, did it hurt?” His eyes were bright and eager with anticipation. “The transplant, I mean.”
I rolled my eyes. “I don’t know, I was drugged through it,” I replied shortly, trying to discourage him.
But Grayson wouldn’t let up. “But isn’t it, like, weird to have someone else’s heart inside of you?” He seemed to get excited at the idea. “Imagine who it could have been!” Grayson rambled on about the possibilities, and I did my best to tune him out.
Relief washed over me as I saw my bus pull up to the stop. “Gotta run.” I hurriedly climbed on before Grayson could realize I had gone.
I slid into my usual seat near the middle of the bus and slunk into the tattered cushion. The past few weeks at school had been insanely chaotic. I was way behind of my homework, but I just couldn’t muster up any motivation to get any of it done. Also, to make it worse, I almost never had a moment to myself. People I didn’t even know were constantly asking me questions about the transplant, and I just didn’t want to talk about it anymore. It was cool at first, but now it was getting old. It happened. It was done. I didn’t want to be the boy with the heart of a stranger anymore. I just wanted to go back to being regular old Lukas: carefree, independent, and responsible for nothing and no one but me, myself and I.
The bus ride flew by with little interruption, as I had my headphones on the entire time to discourage conversation. This was my time.
The bus screeched to a halt at my stop and I hopped off, shoving my headphones into my pocket once the bus had drove away. My house was only a few minutes away, but I wasn’t ready to go home yet. Instead, I slid off my backpack and plopped down onto the grass.
“You’re sitting on an ant hill.”
I jumped up, startled. I looked around frantically for the voice that had come out of nowhere.
“Don’t freak out, please,” the voice said, a voice I had heard before. “I just wanted to let you know.”
I turned to face where I thought the voice had come from, and out of the woods emerged a tall, pasty girl, a girl I thought I would never see again.
“You,” I managed, breathless, “You’re the girl from the hospital.”
She smiled and took a seat next to me, to the right of the ant hill that I had just noticed. I hesitated, then slowly lowered myself back down to the ground, refusing to take my eyes off of her, afraid she’d disappear just as quickly as she appeared. Her eyes were bright and her lips full of much more color than they had been in the hospital. Her hair was a deep auburn, and it flowed down to her hips. She was wearing a long, flowing white dress, and she reminded me of what I thought an angel would look like. “What’s your name?” I asked, slightly ashamed I hadn’t asked sooner.
“Alexandria.”
I smiled at the name. It seemed to fit her so well. “You seem to be doing a lot better,” I noticed. The image of her and her metal walker flashed momentarily across my mind, and I shuddered. I never wanted to go back to that day.
She laughed. “Not really.” She turned to face me. “You see, I’m no longer alive.”
I blinked, unsure of what I just heard. “Wait, you’re not?”
She shook her head. “Nope, I’m dead.”
I gulped slowly and scooted away, putting a little distance between us. “You shouldn’t joke about things like that,” I retorted.
“I really am,” she stated again, completely serious. “Here, try to touch me.”
I hesitated. What would it mean if she was telling the truth? I slowly brought my hand up and placed it on her knee. It fell right through and hit the ground beneath it. I hollered and yanked my hand away. Confused, I brought my eyes back up to meet hers. “What- You- How?” I took a deep breath and tried to gather my thoughts. “When did you die?” I asked quietly, still a little shaken.
She didn’t answer right away. She seemed to be thinking. Finally, she turned to me. “What day did you have your transplant?”
I thought back to that day. “April six.” I furrowed my eyebrows and looked back over at her. “Why?”
“Because,” she sighed, blinking her bright and kind eyes. “That’s the day I died.”
I stayed quiet, slowly understanding what she was telling me. I was alive because she had given her heart for me. I shook my head back and forth slowly, staring intensely at the grass. “Why would you do that for me?” I asked, without looking up.
She stayed silent for quite a while, and I could hear her feet shifting in the grass. We both sat there in silence, staring at the ground. Finally, after what felt like ages, I heard her take a deep breath. I looked up at her, and our eyes met. “I was going to die either way. The cancer had done its work, and it was only a matter of time.” She smiled slightly, her eyes twinkling. “But your story was different. You had a chance, a shot at life again. All you needed was a heart, a live, healthy heart, and I could give that to you.”
I sat there, perplexed. “But why? Why me? You could have given it to anyone else with the same condition. Why did you choose me?”
She shrugged. “On that day in the hospital, I saw something in you. Behind your fatigue and desperation, I saw passion in your eyes, potential in your spirit, and I knew that you were going to do great things.”
I couldn’t help but scoff. “Passion? Potential?” I began to wonder how Alexandria could see those things in me. “I hate to break it to you, but I’m not what you think I am. I’m not anything special, I never have been. I’m just average.”
She shook her head. “Oh no, you are so much more than average. You have a renewed chance at life, a shot to live differently. You can’t keep living the way you have been. You have a duty to the world now.”
I laughed and brought my knees up to my chest. “Why should I owe the world anything? This isn’t a fairy tale or some adventure book. Things like duty and calling don’t exist.”
But Alex wouldn’t let up. “Yes, they do. And this is your calling, Lukas.”
I frowned, not remembering telling her my name.
“You have been given a second chance, and now it’s time to give back.” She smiled kindly. “And I’m going to help you with that.”
“But you’re a ghost,” I protested.
She pursed her lips. “Not a ghost, per se. More of a… spirit.”
I blinked. “So, you’re like… my guardian angel?”
“You could say that.”
I sighed and fell back into the grass, squinting at the sun. “But how do I do that? How do I better the world, how do I live differently? What if I don’t know what to do, or what if I do it wrong?”
Alexandria laid next to me. “Lukas, you don’t have to know exactly how it’s going to work. You don’t have to do it perfectly. All you have to do is try; can you do that?”
I closed my eyes and thought for a moment. I thought back to the days in the hospital, and the depression and confusion I had felt, the fear of the unknown. I was terrified of death, and she had saved me. I began to wonder, what if I could do that for others? Renew their will to live, give them a purpose? Suddenly, I understood. This was my calling, and I could finally see it.
I exhaled deeply and smiled at the sky. “Yes. Yes I can.”