“You were too young to remember the last time she went through treatment. Chemo makes you really sick. She got really weak, vomited constantly, and lost all her hair. It’s painful. Nanna’s already in pain. She doesn’t want any more.”
“She doesn’t look like she’s in pain. She doesn’t even look sick.”
“She is. Just because people don’t talk about things doesn’t mean they don’t feel them.”
“She’s just giving up!”
“We all die, Cybil. If Nanna wants to die peacefully, that’s her choice. She’s had a full life. She had no control over losing Grandpa. Let her at least have control over her own destiny.”
His sister swung the skewer and her crispy, puffed marshmallow flung off the tip and plunged into the flames. She watched dispassionately as it caught fire and burned into blackened ash.
Her big eyes glazed with unshed tears, catching the flickering reflection of the flare, and he suffered her sorrow as if it were his own. Her ivory skin was so youthful it looked translucent around her features, and when she stared like that, parts of her looked made of glass.
He held his breath, silently begging a god he didn’t believe in not to let one tear fall. He was tired of watching his mother, sister, and grandmother cry because there was nothing he could do to ease their pain, and he hated feeling so damn useless. His dad always could make them laugh, but now he was gone, and Dane didn’t have a clue how to repair the ache his absence brought.
His mother was barely keeping it together since they arrived here. He continuously caught her swiping the rims of her eyes until they grew red and puffy with irritation. That was the problem with small families. When you lost a member, you lost a notable chunk of the group.
Soon, his grandmother will pass. Probably sometime within the next few months. Then it would be only him, Cybil, and their mom. And all the tears.
His stomach knotted as his anxiety spiked. He set his skewer against the hot metal rim of the firepit. The marshmallow melted off the tip and oozed into the flames. Why bother saving it?
His sister bolted out of her chair and tossed the skewer in the sand. “I’m going to look for Mom.”
Dane stood. “I’ll come with you.”
Her unspoken relief welcomed him.
It was getting dark. Dane regretted not grabbing a flashlight before they left their site. The crunch of newly fallen leaves muffled the snap of twigs under their feet, and with each breath a cloud of mist filled the air before them. He wouldn’t be surprised if the temperatures dropped into the forties once the stars came out.
“How far would she go to collect sticks?” Since losing their father, Cybil had developed a pattern of constant griping whenever she worried, but Dane read into her negativity and saw it stemmed from the worries that often clouded her mind.
“I told you, she probably had to pee.”
“There are sticks all over the place. She could have just walked around our tent and found enough to keep the fire going all night.”
Cybil was always one of those kids who needed to fill the air with meaningless words as if silence was simply unbearable. But recent events had hiked up her anxiety and shifted her regular commentary toward pessimism.
“Maybe she just wanted some air.” He sensed his mom wasn’t looking for sticks but rather a quiet place to hide and cry.
“We’re outside, doofus. There’s air everywhere.”
A loud crack broke the silence and a small creature skittered across the bed of fallen leaves. The shadows had grown and it was getting too dark to tell if it was a chipmunk or something less adorable, like a skunk. “Watch your step. There are night critters underfoot.” Dane warned.
“They’re called nocturnal—” A crash echoed through the woods, stealing their attention in a split second. “What was that?”
“A branch must have fallen.” Dane squinted into the darkening forest. “Be careful. These trees are old and some are rotted.”
It grew impossibly dark under the shelter of the trees. He glanced back to make sure he could still see the glow from their fire, not wanting to get lost.
Another creak of wood. Then a louder snap. This time rattling the leaves and hitting other trees as it fell.
“What’s doing that?” Cybil’s voice shook, and she stepped closer to his side. “Are there bears in these woods?”
“There are bears all over Pennsylvania, Cyb. It was probably just a big branch falling. Or a tree. Watch your step.”
“Maybe we should go back.”
Dane agreed, but he couldn’t remember if his mom took a flashlight either. What if she was lost? He wondered if he should go back to the site to grab one of the halogen lanterns then return to find her.
“Let’s call for Mom.”
They both cupped their hands around their mouths and yelled, “Mom!”