“I’m not blind you know”, she held my hand and gently whispered sweetly into my ears. “I have eyes and I see how you both see each other” .
I smiled a happy smile. “Awwww, look at you. Aren’t we a little jealous”, I teased her.
Yeah, she was right. I knew that. For the longest, we both were together. Together we were one and I’d like to believe we both stood together against the world. We walked everywhere holding hands. We ate together. We coasted through days together. My shoulders were there for her pain. Her embrace comforted the pain in me. I’d like to believe that we were meant to be. All things considered.
One day, all of that changed. I couldn’t help but reach out to Rosalyn. She was young a beautiful. I did shamelessly find excuses to spend time with her. This of course in a sweet and a nice way, annoyed my other friend. I could see that in her eyes. She felt my love divide. She’d never tell me about it. No, that was not her style. C, as how I called her, would never openly admit that she was no longer the apple of my eyes. She held herself in grace and would never openly express her ire. She played along and she did play it good.
The way she conducted herself, I’d usually sit and grin my sly way. It was a pleasure to remain reassured of what we meant to each other. Yeah, we were one.
Rudy did approve of C. He always said it was not what the world would accept. He was at least decent enough to not ignore her and pretend as if her existence meant nothing. C had endured a hard life. She had lost her love to a nasty car accident. It changed her. It changed her from the inside. She had grown cold to the world from then on. She could no longer feel the warmth in her heart. She no longer saw the love in the world around her. Left with scars , both on the inside and out, she found acceptance hard.
She and I got together well. We were always meant to be. She helped me restore my world. I helped her rebuild hers. We were alone, in a world that we had rejected.
Rosalyn was special to me. C ever remained sceptical to her. One day, C would tell me often, ‘she’s gonna pack her bags and leave you standing all alone and broken’ . I’d usually smile it off and give her a gentle hug to make her feel special again. ‘You, you are my number 1 gal sweetheart’ I’d tell her to comfort her. I meant that too. C was my number 1 gal. Period.
Late one evening, C and I couldn’t sleep. The ruckus had made it hard for us to remain asleep. We both loitered in the hallway only to see Rosalyn being dragged away in a panicked emergency. The lights were turned on and the operation room was rushed and readied.
C and I stood there waiting and watching for an assurance that Rosalyn was going to be ok. We were asked by our nurses to get back to the room. Of course, we’d ignore their kind words. They were a sweet bunch, but they couldn’t keep us separated from Rosalyn.
I stood frozen in pain once again. It felt like the past was flashing again in front of my eyes. I didn’t have the courage to see yet another thirteen year old girl find the passage to heaven in front of my eyes. C knew the feeling all too well. Hers, was a similar loss too. We both were lives who had outlived a loved young one. ours was a broken heart beating on without a purpose.
‘She’s going to be fine, H’, C whispered. ‘She’s your number 1 gal , you know that right. Nothing’s ever going to happen to her while we are there for her, praying, and wishing her ever bit of a life that we can offer’. C’s tears quivered her gentle whisper. We both held our hands tight.
‘Where is Mister Hobbes’, Rosalyn asked a few weeks later. ‘ He was always nice to me. He was the one man who made me smile a lot. He made it a point to cheer me up each time I hit the Chemo room, she added. It was funny, he always carried a doll. He used to call her Cally .’
‘Oh, Mr Hobbes’ , Dr Rudy frowned.
The smile had disappeared from him face a few weeks ago. Rosalyn condition had worsened. She needed immediate care. To make matters worse, Mister Hobbes refused to leave her side. Life had always been extremely hard on his poor soul. He had lost his wife and his daughter to a nasty road accident. The only thing that made it out of that nasty crash was a doll that his daughter carried. Torn, sullied, but Hobbes carried it everywhere with him. He saw his wife in that doll. They would have secret conversations. Strangely, it was his only source of comfort in this house of oncology. We all knew that his was not the kind that garnered miracles from god and see him walk out a healthy man. He was happy that he’d reunite with his family soon. We tried to talk him out of carrying the doll, but we gave up. I felt bad to separate his only source of happiness away from him.
When they admitted Rosalyn, it was a pleasant change for Hobbes. I guess he saw his daughter in her. He’d always do his best to watch out for her. They both spent a lot of time together. It was very sweet of him.
That fateful night, Hobbes refused to go back to his room. He stood watching Rosalyn through the door. His weak body couldn’t cope up. God was cruel and kind that day. Took a wonderful soul back into her arms and left us with another wonderful soul.
‘Mr Hobbes’, Dr Rudy continued. ‘His daughter came looking for him. They both left together. He wanted to say goodbye and introduce his daughter to you, but you were sick and asleep. He walked into your room and kissed you on your forehead and left you with a silent goodbye. I believe he left Cally for you. Let me go bring her to you. Be right back darling. ‘