Beauty of the Bench

C/W: terminal illness

Consistency is a curious thing. Every molecule in the world is constantly changing. Change is our secure constant. So, when we have something consistent besides change, losing it can be absolutely life-changing. 

"Come on, Alex, we're gonna miss the sunrisee." I could hear Jenny singing out the second she walked through the door. 

"I shouldn't have given you a key." I sang back sarcastically from the bathroom. "I just have to get dressed. Would you allow me that courtesy, madam?" She disregarded me as I walked into my room to get some clothes. Meanwhile, Jenny started listing things I should have packed in my 'go bag,' a term she started using since developing an obsession with the tv show Criminal Minds. 

I can't believe she is still making us do this every Sunday; we get up way too early and hike a ridiculously steep hill just to watch the sunrise & sunset. I'm no cynic; I just personally think the whole 'ooh look flaming hot ball' cliché is played out; it's not magic, it's just overrated. But it makes her happy, so I guess it's worth it. Kind of. Sleeping in might be worth missing it once or twice too.

"I'm assuming I don't have time to blow dry my hair and have to leave like a wet dog?" I don't even know why I am asking as if I don't already know that she's just going to tell me I should have gotten up early if I wanted to 'primp,' as she puts it. 

"You should have gotten up earlier if you wanted to primp, not my fault you're a sleepyhead," she stated, just as predicted. 

"Yeah, yeah, let's go. I'm ready." I unenthusiastically mumbled, grabbing my bag and a red bull from the fridge. 

After some caffeine, I'm a bit more able to enjoy the time I get to spend with Jenny. She is my best friend, after all. Since the first day of 1st grade, thirteen years ago, when we were both seven. I stole her crayon, and she flicked me in the head, so we suffered the consequences together at the time-out table during recess. This is where we discovered we have the same birthday, both of our moms had died, and both of our favorite colors were yellow. Plenty to create a bond between two 7-year-old kids. Luckily, that bond has remained intact since. She may get on my nerves, but I wouldn't trade her for anyone, and I know she feels the same.

"We're here!" She shouted as excitedly as the first time we came here. 

We grabbed our stuff and start to head up the monstrous hill. In all reality, it doesn't take too long to climb, it's just steep, and there's only one small spot to take a break on the way up. Unfortunately, the bench there takes up the whole small space and always seems to be occupied by this old man. When we first started doing this, we checked if he was there every time, but it was clear he was a statue. By now, we stopped regarding it as more than something we pass by.

"Here you go" Jenny handed me a breakfast sandwich as we got settled at the top. She then proceeded to pull out various fruits and breakfast foods for us to feast on. 

"And this is why I come," I jokingly gestured to all she pulled out.

"Whatever, smart ass, just eat your food and hush," She teased back, sticking her tongue out at me. 

Not long after we started breakfast, the sun began to rise. We silently watched as the sky changed and everything became lighter. It's somewhat odd as Jenny usually talks at lightning speed about how beautiful it is and how much she can't believe I don't see it the way she does. How every sunrise is a new beginning, and how our lives are full of endless opportunities for the future. 

Distracting me from my inner curiosity of the silence, Jenny stood up and reached out her hand to pull me up. "C'mon, we gotta take some pictures together." Pictures are also another thing Jenny insists we do on these trips. I actually enjoy it though, it's nice to be able to look back at the memories. After that, we spent most of the day just talking, laughing about old memories, playing cards, typical stuff we do while we're up here. 

It was about 7, and I started looking at the photos we took that morning, "Geesh, we took a lot of pictures today."

"What can I say? It's a good hair day." Jenny playfully responded, playing her hair. "and we still have to take some more tonight." She added in a bit firmer tone than before. 

"Well, why wait?" I said, laughing, and started snapping pictures of her. We watched as the sun began to set, we took some more pictures, and then as we sit down, I look over and notice there are tears suddenly making their way from her eyes down her cheek. 

"Dude, what's wrong? Are you okay?" I quickly scoot over to her and wrap my arms around her tightly. She shook her head as she wiped her face. "I have to tell you something."

"What's going on?" I asked, trying to not cry at the sight of her looking so distressed. Instead of answering, she looked at me and started to bawl in my arms, burying her face in my chest. I began stroking her hair gently, trying to calm her down as I held her. 

Finally, she started to say something, but I couldn't make it out because she still had her face mashed against me. "What? You gotta sit up. I can't understand you like that." 

Sitting up and brushing her hair out of her face, she took a deep breath and repeated herself,

"I'm dying."

I- No. That wouldn't make sense. Jenny can't die. She's fine. She's fine. She's fine. She's fi-

"Alex?" snapping out of my trance, I looked at her, just staring. I'm waiting for her to crack into a smile and tell me it was an awful joke, but she doesn't. I know she's waiting for me to say something, but I can't manage a sentence. Eventually, she realized I couldn't and continued

"I found out last Wednesday, I have cancer, the same kind my mom had. I know I should've to- "

"Your mom was 34 your only 20; you can't have it yet. It's too early for you to d-" It was her turn to hold me while I took my turn sobbing. Trying to find a way to breathe underneath the pain of the idea of her not being alive anymore. Once I got to a point I was calming down some, she started talking again.

"I should've told you when I found out, but it took me some time to process. Tomorrow's my first treatment session, and I wanted one more normal day, one more Sun Sunday. It's going to really mess me up for a while, so I'm not going to be able to keep doing this, at least until I'm better, but…" she started trailing off and hesitated to finish her sentence.

"But what?" I pushed, needing to know whatever was going through her head

"But it's stage four, and my mom didn't make it through treatment, so the chances that I do are minimal."

"Oh" is all I can manage to mutter out right now. I can't place my thoughts. 

"I know it's a lot to digest, but I want to enjoy this. Our last night here." She said it like she was dying tomorrow; I mean, it's not like people don't ever survive cancer. 

"It won't be our last night here. We're going to come back as soon as you're better," I stated like I was determining her cancer away by the sheer power of my will. "But we will make this a great night, I promise," I added, trying to reassure her.

"I brought sleeping bags and pillows, but they're in the car. Would you mind going down to get them?" she looked so pitiful when she asked. I wanted to take every ounce of the pain away from her immediately, but at this point, combined with my own pain, I might just collapse if I took hers too. So I just nodded, told her I'd be back, and headed down the hill.

 I got the extra bag from the car and start to head back up. I never realized how much darker it seems at night compared to how dark it is in the morning. But in all reality, I'm sure it only seems darker because I'm by myself. As I near the top, I notice the old man still sitting on the bench, but he's looking directly at me this time. For the first time, he started talking to me.

"Is jenny okay?" he asked me as if he knew her personally; it was weird. I just nodded and mentioned grabbing something from the car and quickly moved on. He didn't say anything else, and I was too creeped out to investigate the odd encounter. 

I got to the top and decided to not mention the old man who apparently knows her name; I wanted her to enjoy tonight and let it be as stress-free as I could make it for her. I'm sure he just overheard me talking to her at one point anyway. 

"Took you long enough," she teased me as I got back to the top.

"Oh whatever, missy." I stuck my tongue out at her, grabbing my water and collapsing on the blanket. 

The next thing I know, she's grabbing the bag pulling stuff out, looking like a raccoon rummaging through a dumpster. 

"Not trying to go to sleep on me already, are you?" I wasn't ready for this night to be over. 

"Nope, just brought a little something special for the evening." She giggled, holding a baggy out in front of her. 

"Is that-?"

"Rolled Mary Jane, in the flesh," she interrupted, finishing my thought process for me. 

"You lil rebel," I commented while laughing.

We spent the night talking, trying to enjoy this precious time and forget for a while what was happening. We didn't end up sleeping; we just stayed up and watched the sunrise into the following day.

"Will you come with me to the hospital today?" she asked nervously like I could say no to her.

"I will be there every day." she gave me a soft smile, and we left the hill. It felt sad like we were saying goodbye to something.

2 months later

Jenny died a week ago. She's not here, yet the reality of her being gone forever seems to just be illuding me entirely. Her dad is coming by to drop something off today. I just want to lay in bed. Forever. Maybe my hips will rust, and I'll die with her, like the tin man or something. I got up to try to make myself semi-presentable. Not that Mr. Genson will care. I'm sure he's even more of a mess than I am.

Not too much later, he knocked on the door to my apartment; we exchanged typical pleasantries and sat down. Clearly, I was right about him being a mess. We sat awkwardly for a little while, and I noticed he was observing my apartment closely.

"I can tell Jenny helped decorate." He noted, breaking the silence.

"She did most of it, really; it'd probably be lifeless if it weren't for her input." I immediately realized my terrible choice of words and went slightly red. 

"What gave it away, the lights, tapestries, or, let me guess, the candles everywhere?" He laughed at the last mention. Jenny had an insane obsession with candles, and anyone who knew her well enough understood that. 

We talked for a bit, mainly about Jenny, then he proceeded to ask about my life some. This was followed by him handing me a jar and a full backpack. 

"The letter in the bag explains everything. She wrote me one too. Son, I'm sorry you lost another important person from your life." 

I was somewhat shocked, not sure entirely how to respond. Thank you didn't seem very appropriate, really. I mean, he just handed me my dead best friend, is there an appropriate response for that? 

"I'm sorry you have as well, sir." I really do feel for him. He's clearly a complete disaster; I'm surprised he's sober and upright. I can barely manage that myself. "Sir, do you maybe want to stay here for a while? Plenty of booze and a safe place to not be alone."

He nodded vaguely, and I got a bottle of vodka from the freezer. We spent the Saturday drinking and talking, reminiscing, being sad. Just existing the best we could at the moment. 

I woke up about 3 am. I started looking at some of the stuff Jenny left me. A couple of her hoodies, some of her favorite stuffed animals, and a photo album. I started going through the pictures; they were mostly the ones we had taken on top of the hill. There was a blank page marked with the date of our last trip, which she clearly wants me to fill in. I started crying abruptly and sat there for a good 20 minutes, sobbing and looking at the pictures. I miss her so much. The letter was rough, but it gave me a mission. I showered and left a note for her dad, trying to get out the door in time. I grabbed the jar from my nightstand and got in the car. I'm surprised I didn't get pulled over; I was driving a little bit crazy. 

Once I managed to make it there, I grabbed the small bag that held the jar and my go bag and walked towards the hill. It looked so much bigger than it ever did before when we were climbing it together. Regardless, I started making my way up. About halfway up, I was getting tired, probably the copious amount of alcohol I consumed the day before. I was still a little tipsy, in all honesty. By the time I got to the bench, I knew I had to stop regardless of its vacancy or lack thereof.

I silently sat next to the old man. It was actually somewhat comforting. Almost like he was just as much a part of this place as she was. I was lost in thought, and out of nowhere, he started talking, startling the shit out of me. 

"Where is she?" he asked, somewhat sadly, like he already knew the answer by looking at me.

"Dead." It seemed like a cold answer but feels like enough. I think he almost started to cry, which seemed kind of odd. We were both quiet for some time when he started talking again. 

"I know you probably both have, or had I should say, your theories about me. The truth is my wife and me came up here every Sunday morning to watch the sunrise and the sunset. Much like you and Jenny. They were very similar, those two, from what I could tell anyway. Such a spirit and a way of living that you can't always follow, brave spirits and beautiful souls. My Ella was in love with the sky like Jenny, and I complained about as much as you. But it made her happy, so we never stopped coming."

After a slight pause, he continued,

"Once she died, I stopped coming for a while. Until one Sunday morning, I decided to come back. I came very early so I could spread her ashes. Looking at them every day just made me sadder. It was a sadness I couldn't seem to let go of. It just sat with me. I wanted them to be in her favorite place; I vowed it would be the last time I'd come here, to let her be as free as she should be, and to say goodbye to the place that created some of our most treasured memories. Then right before the sunrise that morning, I heard two strangers stumbling up the hill, one nagging the other that he took too long to get ready, trying to rush him up. It was the first time I'd really smiled since Ella died. Oh, you both made me laugh. It gave this place life again. It made me love the sun the way she did. It was as if I finally saw it through her eyes. After that, I decided to continue coming every Sunday. I was happy you both did too. This place is magic, no matter what your mind tells you. They will both forever live on within its essence."

I just sat silently as he told me his story; by the end of it, I was in tears. It's been a couple of years since we started coming here. I didn't have a clue all this time; I just wrote him off. 

I thanked him for telling me and hugged him. He told me all about his wife and their life. He helped me spread Jenny's ashes as the sun rose again and let me cry as I needed. I don't think I've ever seen a sunrise more beautiful than this one. I immediately knew what he meant when he said he could see it through his wife's eyes. Like Jenny had wanted me to all along, I started seeing it the way she did; all of it, really,

The old man, the bench, the sunrise, life. I'd never been more ecstatic, emotional, or appreciative of any of it. It was the saddest and most beautiful day of my life. Like it was the first time I ever opened my eyes.