The Ghosts of GingerBread Castle and the Twelve Days of Christmas

Chapter 4

Beth's words shocked me senseless as I felt my insides churn as if someone was twisting, pushing, and pulling my very being. The floor spun and my stomach threatened to cast out its sour contents. Beth led me into the living room, where we sat until she must have felt my brain had absorbed the earlier shock of learning of my mother's illness, and then she left. Before she did, she encouraged me to talk to my brother about it, and I agreed.

She mentioned that there was going to be a Christmas Eve party tonight in the village square and she hoped I'd go. Though I didn't feel like going, I agreed, mainly because it was my way of saying goodbye.

Looking at the clock I saw that it was 3: 55 p.m. How the time was passing by. Time! How precious a commodity, I thought. If only people saw the importance of it. I thought of the creature again and wondered if it'd reappear. But it didn't.

My mother was still asleep, and Doretta hadn't returned from her friend's, so I walked about the house as if I was saying goodbye to it. Surely I'd miss it. It was home, after all. I lingered in the living room where I used to sit and watch television with my family in happier times. My eyes stung as I fought back the tears as I reminisced.

Suddenly voices shook me out of my nostalgia. It was my brother Ray and his wife, Emily. I watched as they brought the groceries into the house.

Ray greeted me happily. "Heidi!" he said.

"Hi!" I answered.

"When did you arrive?" Emily asked, opening a cupboard to pack groceries into it.

"Since the afternoon," I replied, opening a brown box of groceries. A multitude of questions paraded my mind amidst my sorrow. "I talked to Beth, and she told me about mother's illness. Is it true?"

My brother closed the cupboard door and turned to me. "Yes Heidi. It's true."

"So why didn't you tell me?"

"We called and left countless messages."

"I never got them."

They were silent as they stared at me.

Fighting the hopelessness, I held onto hope. "Well, there's treatment for cancer. I'm sure she still has a chance to fight it."

"She refuses the chemotherapy," Ray said.

Those words shocked me and cast me deeper into a dark chasm. Why would she refuse therapy? "Refuses? Or can't afford it?"

"They offered her chemo at the public hospital, but she refused. The doctors say it's too late for her. But if she wants chemo, she can have it."

My confusion grew. "Too late, with or without the chemo?"

He shrugged as though he didn't know, and Emily looked on, her expression serious.

My brother's attitude to my question wore my patience dangerously thin. "Does she have a chance with chemo?"

"I don't know."

My impatience was now mingled with anger. "What do you mean you don't know?" I asked, shocked at my tone.

My brother looked startled. "We didn't ask because she didn't want the therapy."

"What do you mean?" I asked.

He shook his head and looked away.

Emily waved her hands as she spoke. "She doesn't want therapy."

I ignored her and continued my barrage of questions, my harsh tone hitting the roof. "Isn't she unable to think for herself? You're supposed to encourage her to get therapy. How can you not ask about it?" I asked, mad as a raging bull.

Emily stared silently, as though offended by my tone.

Ray shook his head and seemed to concede. "She didn't want it, but you're right. We're supposed to encourage her to take the therapy. We'll have to take her back to the hospital," he said, looking thoughtful and unbelievingly calm.

"How soon can you go? Can you go after the holidays? Like before the year?" I asked.

"She has a clinic appointment early in January. If she has to go before that she'll have to see a private doctor."

"I... I want you to do that," I said.

Ray looked at me and shook his head. "We don't have the money."

"I will give it to you. I..." I hesitated, before continuing. "Recently, I sold a painting. I'll give you the money." Of course, I didn't tell him everything. In due time, I thought.

He nodded his acceptance as he folded the grocery bags to put them away.

Suddenly, I remembered my mother's words that before the second week of the month, there is never anything to eat. I also thought of the bare cupboards and my mother not having anything to eat today. "How come you left her with no food today?"

Ray shook his head, smiled, and spoke softly. "It really didn't have anything to cook today. I got my wages yesterday evening, so that's why we went out today."

My eyes popped open as I grew with rage. "How can you allow that to happen?" I asked.

"It's only one day," Emily said.

What kind of people did I have as my family? My anger was at the tipping point. "One day? How can you say that?" I shouted.

Ray lowered his head and remained silent.

I warned him. "You must never do that again. Never!"

Emily looked on silently, a somber look on her face. Ray looked down at the floor silently.

Feeling hopeless I drilled my warning into their minds again. "You won't ever leave her without food again. And you'll manage the money better so that there's always food in the house. You must try harder."

Ray shook his head, agreeing with me. "We really shouldn't have let things get to that. It won't happen again," he said.