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Authors: Lurlene McDaniel
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you?”
He was preoccupied and had to force his mind to change course. He was alone with Jessica in the light of a pale moon rising. He needed to forget their problems and concentrate on her. “I love the smell of your hair,” he countered.
“I have an appointment to get it all cut off next week.”
“But why? I like your hair long, and you always have too.”
“Because it looks terrible.” She fingered it. “Kidney failure is ruining it, so I’ll chop it off and stop feeling bad about the way it’s looking. It’s ugly.”
“No—”
“Jeremy, it’s okay. It’s only hair.”
He could tell that cutting it would be difficult for her, but that she’d made up her mindto do so. “You can grow it long again after the transplant,” he said.
“Right,” she said listlessly. “ ‘After the transplant’ is beginning to sound like some foreign planet, some faraway destination where I’ll never arrive.”
“It’s going to happen, Jessica.” He hated to hear the sad resignation in her voice.
“I worry about it, though.” She nibbled on her bottom lip. “It’s a big responsibility—taking someone’s organ from them. What if my body rejects it? Then everyone loses. You’re minus a kidney. And I’m back on dialysis.”
“Is that what’s bothering you? You’re afraid you’ll reject my kidney?”
“Yes.” She picked at peeling paint on the arm of the swing. “Dr. Witherspoon sent in a psychologist to talk to me. Some people aren’t good transplant candidates because they don’t plan on taking extra-good care of themselves.”
“What’d you tell her?”
“I told her taking care of myself wouldn’t be a problem for me. She said my fears are natural, that all recipients are uneasy about receiving another person’s organ.”
“And there’s medication to keep you from rejecting.”
“The drugs aren’t guarantees, Jeremy. Sometimes, despite all the best care, a person still rejects.”
He could see how deeply she was troubled by the idea. “Are you upset because you’ll have to return to dialysis, or because you feel it’s necessary to keep my kidney safe and healthy?”
She was amazed at his ability to instantly grasp her deepest, innermost feelings. At the bottom of her fears was the one about being inadequate, about being handed a responsibility that she might fail to live up to by default. “I don’t want to reject your kidney,” she mumbled.
“You’re not less of a person if you do, Jessie. It’s not something to be ashamed of, like cheating on an exam or stealing from someone.”
She sighed and leaned her head against his shoulder. “Aren’t you scared about losing an organ?”
He didn’t answer immediately, and Jessica listened to the sounds of the night as she waited. Insects hummed, and water from thegarden pond gurgled. Jeremy said, “It’s more like anxious than scared. With the surgery, I go to sleep and a few hours later wake up with a sore side and back. They tell me I’ll recover fast.” He paused, and she heard a dog barking far away. “Maybe it has something to do with Tom’s accident. I walked away with hardly a scratch while he died. I saw the car later; it was crumpled up like a squashed soda can. No one could figure out how I didn’t get hurt. I sure don’t know either.”
She recalled the many discussions they’d had when their friendship was developing about his brother’s death. Over time, he’d expressed anger, guilt, depression. But now his voice was different, as if he’d come to some kind of peace with it.
She listened as he continued. “You told me that God had saved me for a purpose. I’ve come to believe that the purpose was to help save you. Don’t worry, I haven’t got a God complex. But doing this for you is what I want to do. It’s what I need to do. In a way, it helps me make sense out of Tom’s dying while I’m still alive.”
She could think of nothing to tell him thatwould fully express her gratitude. She
He was preoccupied and had to force his mind to change course. He was alone with Jessica in the light of a pale moon rising. He needed to forget their problems and concentrate on her. “I love the smell of your hair,” he countered.
“I have an appointment to get it all cut off next week.”
“But why? I like your hair long, and you always have too.”
“Because it looks terrible.” She fingered it. “Kidney failure is ruining it, so I’ll chop it off and stop feeling bad about the way it’s looking. It’s ugly.”
“No—”
“Jeremy, it’s okay. It’s only hair.”
He could tell that cutting it would be difficult for her, but that she’d made up her mindto do so. “You can grow it long again after the transplant,” he said.
“Right,” she said listlessly. “ ‘After the transplant’ is beginning to sound like some foreign planet, some faraway destination where I’ll never arrive.”
“It’s going to happen, Jessica.” He hated to hear the sad resignation in her voice.
“I worry about it, though.” She nibbled on her bottom lip. “It’s a big responsibility—taking someone’s organ from them. What if my body rejects it? Then everyone loses. You’re minus a kidney. And I’m back on dialysis.”
“Is that what’s bothering you? You’re afraid you’ll reject my kidney?”
“Yes.” She picked at peeling paint on the arm of the swing. “Dr. Witherspoon sent in a psychologist to talk to me. Some people aren’t good transplant candidates because they don’t plan on taking extra-good care of themselves.”
“What’d you tell her?”
“I told her taking care of myself wouldn’t be a problem for me. She said my fears are natural, that all recipients are uneasy about receiving another person’s organ.”
“And there’s medication to keep you from rejecting.”
“The drugs aren’t guarantees, Jeremy. Sometimes, despite all the best care, a person still rejects.”
He could see how deeply she was troubled by the idea. “Are you upset because you’ll have to return to dialysis, or because you feel it’s necessary to keep my kidney safe and healthy?”
She was amazed at his ability to instantly grasp her deepest, innermost feelings. At the bottom of her fears was the one about being inadequate, about being handed a responsibility that she might fail to live up to by default. “I don’t want to reject your kidney,” she mumbled.
“You’re not less of a person if you do, Jessie. It’s not something to be ashamed of, like cheating on an exam or stealing from someone.”
She sighed and leaned her head against his shoulder. “Aren’t you scared about losing an organ?”
He didn’t answer immediately, and Jessica listened to the sounds of the night as she waited. Insects hummed, and water from thegarden pond gurgled. Jeremy said, “It’s more like anxious than scared. With the surgery, I go to sleep and a few hours later wake up with a sore side and back. They tell me I’ll recover fast.” He paused, and she heard a dog barking far away. “Maybe it has something to do with Tom’s accident. I walked away with hardly a scratch while he died. I saw the car later; it was crumpled up like a squashed soda can. No one could figure out how I didn’t get hurt. I sure don’t know either.”
She recalled the many discussions they’d had when their friendship was developing about his brother’s death. Over time, he’d expressed anger, guilt, depression. But now his voice was different, as if he’d come to some kind of peace with it.
She listened as he continued. “You told me that God had saved me for a purpose. I’ve come to believe that the purpose was to help save you. Don’t worry, I haven’t got a God complex. But doing this for you is what I want to do. It’s what I need to do. In a way, it helps me make sense out of Tom’s dying while I’m still alive.”
She could think of nothing to tell him thatwould fully express her gratitude. She
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