Long Live

Chapter Nine

Long live all the mountains we moved

I had the time of my life fighting dragons with you

I was screaming long live that look on your face

And bring on all the pretenders

One day, we will be remembered – Taylor Swift, Long Live.

     When we arrived at the hospital Crispin was immediately taken into Urgent Care. He had gone unconscious in the car. Cindy had driven way over the speed limit to get here. The hospital was in no way close to town, the usual half hour drive turned into a fifteen minute drive. Dylan kept saying encouraging words to Crispin, even after he lost consciousness.

      I sat in the waiting area with Dylan and Cindy, too scared to talk. Dylan was pacing back and forth looking like he wanted to say something, but decided better of it. Cindy had her hands placed on her lap, just staring blankly ahead, lost in her own thoughts.

     I wanted to badly to ask if they had any idea what was wrong with Crispin, but I was too afraid to find out if they did. What if it was something really bad? What if he was going to… No I couldn’t think like that. I had to be positive. No use worrying over something that may not be that big of a deal. Maybe he ate red jello or something. That could be very possible.

     “Excuse me, are you Crispin Murphy’s mother?” a nurse asked coming up to Cindy.

     “No, I’m the woman he’s staying with over the summer. His parents are in England. I’m a distant cousin though,” she answered standing up. Her voice was shaking.

     “I’m afraid to say, but the news isn’t good with, Crispin,” the nurse trailed off, “the doctor would like to speak with you for a moment.”

     “Of course,” Cindy replied, and followed the nurse into the hallway.

     Once they were gone, and turned to Dylan, “What’s wrong with him Dylan?”

      Dylan just looked at me then looked away.

     “Tell me, dammit! I know you know. I deserve to know. I’m his friend too, you know!” I yelled at him.

     “He asked me not to say anything to you,” Dylan mumbled.

     “So what? I have to know! Tell me!” I screamed, tears springing to my eyes, “is he going to die?”

     Dylan looked at the ground, then made his way over and took the chair next to me sitting down. “Crispin was diagnosed with stage four stomach cancer six months ago. The doctor said there was nothing they could do for him, and pretty much told him to make the most of the time he had left.”

     I stared blankly at Dylan. Crispin was dying? He was as healthy as a horse all summer. He didn’t seem to show any signs of having stomach cancer. I would have noticed, wouldn’t I? Did he cough a lot before? Did he clench his stomach in pain? Did he seem weaker lately?

      “Why didn’t he tell me?” I said, trying to blink back the tears that were starting to already fall.

     “He didn’t want to worry you. He figured he’d be back in England by the time it got this bad,” Dylan mumbled, not looking at me.

     “Why did he come here if he knew he was going to die?” I sobbed.

       “He wanted to visit America. He’d never been here and he wanted to spend the summer having the time of his life… Which he did. Every night before he’d go to sleep he’d tell me that it was the best time he’d ever had,” Dylan said, a tear slipping down his cheek.