quixotic. ↣ d.h.

xi: cancer

the freshly-fallen snow crunched under their feet. they walked side by side, a comfortable silence resting between them. dan was beginning to get the sense that zoe didn't speak unless she was prompted. he tested the waters with a simple confession.

    "things haven't always been how they are now," he said carefully.

    zoe glanced over at him interestedly, her eyes asking him to continue.

    "have you ever heard of adrian howell?"

    zoe's face was usually void of expression, concealing her thoughts, but that moment was an exception. her mouth dropped open and her eyes widened. a glove-covered hand shot up to her face in shock.

    "dan," she said. "dan howell. you're dan howell."

    the entire town had heard of dan's family. his brother adrian got sick one day in school around a year ago, and they discovered why the next day: cancer. brain cancer.

    adrian's name and face was plastered on every local newspaper, broadcasted on every low-budget news station. by the end of the week everyone knew of the howell family, and everyone wanted a piece of the action. casseroles were baked and cards sent. the flower delivery truck was practically a permanent fixture in their cracked driveway. reporters eagerly awaited the morning time, when they could yell questions at mr. howell as he left for work.

    mrs. howell quit her job when they found the cancer that was destroying her son; someone had to stay home and take care of him.

    the whole of their tiny town had been infested with a sick fascination; after all, nothing ever happened there, and cancer was, well, cancer. it was a horrible, tragic disease that they viewed through the lens of every hollywood movie they'd ever seen portraying it; to them, it was nothing but a story to cling to and a reason to dig out their fancy black clothes.

    dan was drooping at the edges, slumped posture piled on unsteady feet. he was visibly weighed down by the circumstances life had inflicted on him.    

    "yeah," he said sadly. "i'm dan howell. you probably know me better as adrian howell's brother."

    zoe stuttered on her words; she didn't want dan to think that she was like the rest of them.

    "i-you..." she sighed. "i'm sorry."

    "for what?"

    "for everything. i'm sorry you've been dealt a crappy hand in life, i'm sorry on behalf of this town. i'm sorry for the numerous casseroles you probably received from my mom. i'm just sorry."

    dan gave her a sad yet grateful smile, round lips curled to the left. "thank you."

    "how's he doing, by the way? your brother?"

    at some point mr. howell had quit his job as well, only leaving the house for a quick trip to find the nearest liquor store. no one had heard anything new about the howells in weeks.

    "he's okay. nothing they've tried so far to heal him has really worked but... adrian's a good kid. he's doing his best to keep a positive attitude."

    "he sounds nice," zoe said truthfully.

    "he is. he doesn't deserve any of this," dan responded quietly.

    "most people don't," zoe offered.    

    "huh?"

    "most people that have bad things happen to them, they don't deserve them. like budding flowers stepped on my uncaring feet; you just have to hope they're strong enough to keep themselves upright."

    dan looked at zoe, a little awestruck.

    "you talk beautifully," he said breathlessly.

    zoe blushed. for her, there was hardly a more pleasing compliment that could be uttered.

    "thank you."

    they'd stopped in front of a small cafe, the one that zoe sometimes visited on her walk home. dan held the door open for her before following her into the cozy space.

    there was an empty booth in the back corner with cracked leather seats that begged them to sit, to stay a while. and for once zoe wasn't plotting some escape; in fact, she was quite looking forward to learning more about dan.