By Partick Sipperly (Spoon ~ Public ~ Free)
Jeff brought his boxy Scion to a hasty stop in the Dairy Queen parking lot. He caught the time on his iPhone and winced. Late again. Through the fast-food window he could see Amber seated by the far wall with her back to the door. He shook his head wondering if he'd need to apologize or just skip it. She hadn't said anything before. Perhaps she wouldn't notice this thirty-two minute delay.
“Hey,” he said letting his lanky body fall into the seat across from his hooded friend.
“Hey back.” She said without lifting her eyes.
“Gettin' anything to munch on?”
Amber shook her head. “Not hungry.”
Jeff looked past her to the glowing menu board above the cash registers. He weighed the price difference between a butterscotch sundae and a Peanut Buster Parfait when he noticed a seriousness about his friend. He put the cravings of his sweet tooth on pause.
Silent expressions passed over Amber's face the way sunlight and shadows chase each other across the soft earth on stormy days. She was somber then sad then peaceful.
“What's up?” Jeff asked hoping to avoid any lecture about tardiness.
Amber lifted her lavender hood. “Remember that one time in Mr. Minter's class when he asked us what one single thing would we do if we knew we couldn't fail?”
Jeff nodded. “Yeah, I think. Didn't Mark yell out something about eating enough pizza to throw up?”
Amber looked up. “Yeah, he did!” She shook her head and forced a smile.
“I remember. So what?”
She looked up to the eyes of her friend of enough years then looked away.
Jeff moved closer. “You got a secret or somethin'?”
“Not a secret, really. At least not one for long.”
“And...”
“And...my one thing if I couldn't fail was to make people happy. Really happy. And soon I'm finally going to do that.”
Jeff kept his attention focused on her, waiting for the rest of the story. “Is that why we're here? You're going to make someone happy? Let me know if you need some ideas.”
Amber laughed nervously. Then she reached into her sweatshirt and pulled out a blue brochure and slid it across the table.
Jeff looked over the attractive cover before unfolding it. “You're donating a miracle?”
“Miracles. Not just one.”
He flipped the glossy brochure over and scanned the images of the female anatomy. “I don't get it. Are you donating a kidney?”
Amber waited for her friend's eyes to lift to hers.
“I'm donating everything,” she said.
Jeff's brow furrowed. “How do you do that? You kind of need those things yourself, don't you.”
“Other people do. I don't.”
Jeff sat back against the hard orange seat, still clueless.
“You're giving away your body parts? Like for free?”
“Yes – well they're actually giving me some money, but I'm giving that away too.”
“But Amber, you're only seventeen--”
“Eighteen.”
“Oooh, eighteen, sorry. That's so much older!”
They both laughed.
“You need your organs to live. That's like basic public knowledge. I didn't have to pass biology to know that. Why are you doing this?”
She looked out the window, then down the back interior wall to a discarded plastic spoon on the floor. She was somber again.
“Gonna come to my birthday party, Jeff?”
“Sure, when is it?”
“Last week, remember?”
The sting went up through his stomach dragging along the forgotten, black and white memories of a handwritten invitation.
“You promised to be there,” she said with an edge. “I invited you and a few others too. You know who came? No one.”
Jeff sat speechless.
“I got a cool present from my step mom, though. She said the apartment was paid up through the first of next month. Then she took Jared, whatever would fit in the car, and drove to Texas.”
“Your step mom left?”
“Happy frigging birthday, huh? She's so whacked. I feel bad for little Jared. I hope he makes it okay.”
“At least you've got your own place now,” he said hoping to brighten the conversation. “Let's celebrate with some hot fudge.”
“I'm all alone, Jeff.” Her empty eyes bore into him. “Utterly and completely alone. There's nothing and no one at home for me. No family. No pets. Nothing.”
The scruffy teenage boy thought about the vibrant life springing from every crevice of his house. The smiling faces of the same parents who brought him into the world. The two younger brothers and a bossy sister. The large Labrador who once did, in fact, eat his homework. Every square inch of his home, like every single day of his young life, was filled with the warmth and feel of love.
“Do you know what it's like to not be picked for anything at school? For everyone's phone to ring but yours? To not be touched by a boy – ever? Not even by you and we were close, I thought.”
Amber's words cut deep, draining out any remaining hint of youthful energy.
“The last time I was hugged was by a stranger who saw me crying at my dad's funeral - two years ago.”
She picked up the brochure and sat back. Jeff watched her with nothing to offer; no cute lines, no funny comebacks.
“Anyways, I saw this ad about donating miracles and it just sort of clicked, you know? No, you don't know. Well, it clicked for me. Pretty simple really. Like you go to sleep, they take all they can, give whatever to whoever, and you just don't wake up. People - kids mostly - want to live. They just need a little something so they can. Well, I've got what they need. And since I don't want to anymore, they can have it all.
“You don't want to what anymore?
"Live.”
Jeff couldn't hide his shock. He leaned in again. “Is this a joke? 'Cause if it is, it's a little sick.”
Amber shook her head. “No joke, Jeff. True story.” She glanced out the big window. “In fact...I think that's my ride.”
“You're ride? What the heck, Amber! How can you do this? This isn't even legal.”
“It's legal. Lots of new changes in healthcare. It's like suicide for a good cause, right? Besides, it's my life. I'm eighteen, remember?”
They watched a small, white panel van pull into the parking lot. The driver maneuvered it into an open space and parked keeping the engine running. Amber scooted out of the booth and stood. Jeff followed her lead. She looked up at Jeff as though framing the moment to treasure in her broken heart.
“I wanted to spend my last hour with my only friend in the world. He was half an hour late - again. I'm like a ghost already. I might as well be a real one while making others happy at the same time. I was always good at multitasking.”
Jeff reached out to her, but froze when Amber shook her head. He watched her take a step back, then another, as the hands he never held slipped into the shadow of her pockets. Then she turned and walked out the door to the idling van.
The sliding door opened for the quiet girl. She talked briefly with someone inside, then pulled out something from her jeans' pocket and showed the driver. A moment later, Amber stepped inside the white van and closed the door.
She never looked back.
Jeff brought his boxy Scion to a hasty stop in the Dairy Queen parking lot. He caught the time on his iPhone and winced. Late again. Through the fast-food window he could see Amber seated by the far wall with her back to the door. He shook his head wondering if he'd need to apologize or just skip it. She hadn't said anything before. Perhaps she wouldn't notice this thirty-two minute delay.
“Hey,” he said letting his lanky body fall into the seat across from his hooded friend.
“Hey back.” She said without lifting her eyes.
“Gettin' anything to munch on?”
Amber shook her head. “Not hungry.”
Jeff looked past her to the glowing menu board above the cash registers. He weighed the price difference between a butterscotch sundae and a Peanut Buster Parfait when he noticed a seriousness about his friend. He put the cravings of his sweet tooth on pause.
Silent expressions passed over Amber's face the way sunlight and shadows chase each other across the soft earth on stormy days. She was somber then sad then peaceful.
“What's up?” Jeff asked hoping to avoid any lecture about tardiness.
Amber lifted her lavender hood. “Remember that one time in Mr. Minter's class when he asked us what one single thing would we do if we knew we couldn't fail?”
Jeff nodded. “Yeah, I think. Didn't Mark yell out something about eating enough pizza to throw up?”
Amber looked up. “Yeah, he did!” She shook her head and forced a smile.
“I remember. So what?”
She looked up to the eyes of her friend of enough years then looked away.
Jeff moved closer. “You got a secret or somethin'?”
“Not a secret, really. At least not one for long.”
“And...”
“And...my one thing if I couldn't fail was to make people happy. Really happy. And soon I'm finally going to do that.”
Jeff kept his attention focused on her, waiting for the rest of the story. “Is that why we're here? You're going to make someone happy? Let me know if you need some ideas.”
Amber laughed nervously. Then she reached into her sweatshirt and pulled out a blue brochure and slid it across the table.
Jeff looked over the attractive cover before unfolding it. “You're donating a miracle?”
“Miracles. Not just one.”
He flipped the glossy brochure over and scanned the images of the female anatomy. “I don't get it. Are you donating a kidney?”
Amber waited for her friend's eyes to lift to hers.
“I'm donating everything,” she said.
Jeff's brow furrowed. “How do you do that? You kind of need those things yourself, don't you.”
“Other people do. I don't.”
Jeff sat back against the hard orange seat, still clueless.
“You're giving away your body parts? Like for free?”
“Yes – well they're actually giving me some money, but I'm giving that away too.”
“But Amber, you're only seventeen--”
“Eighteen.”
“Oooh, eighteen, sorry. That's so much older!”
They both laughed.
“You need your organs to live. That's like basic public knowledge. I didn't have to pass biology to know that. Why are you doing this?”
She looked out the window, then down the back interior wall to a discarded plastic spoon on the floor. She was somber again.
“Gonna come to my birthday party, Jeff?”
“Sure, when is it?”
“Last week, remember?”
The sting went up through his stomach dragging along the forgotten, black and white memories of a handwritten invitation.
“You promised to be there,” she said with an edge. “I invited you and a few others too. You know who came? No one.”
Jeff sat speechless.
“I got a cool present from my step mom, though. She said the apartment was paid up through the first of next month. Then she took Jared, whatever would fit in the car, and drove to Texas.”
“Your step mom left?”
“Happy frigging birthday, huh? She's so whacked. I feel bad for little Jared. I hope he makes it okay.”
“At least you've got your own place now,” he said hoping to brighten the conversation. “Let's celebrate with some hot fudge.”
“I'm all alone, Jeff.” Her empty eyes bore into him. “Utterly and completely alone. There's nothing and no one at home for me. No family. No pets. Nothing.”
The scruffy teenage boy thought about the vibrant life springing from every crevice of his house. The smiling faces of the same parents who brought him into the world. The two younger brothers and a bossy sister. The large Labrador who once did, in fact, eat his homework. Every square inch of his home, like every single day of his young life, was filled with the warmth and feel of love.
“Do you know what it's like to not be picked for anything at school? For everyone's phone to ring but yours? To not be touched by a boy – ever? Not even by you and we were close, I thought.”
Amber's words cut deep, draining out any remaining hint of youthful energy.
“The last time I was hugged was by a stranger who saw me crying at my dad's funeral - two years ago.”
She picked up the brochure and sat back. Jeff watched her with nothing to offer; no cute lines, no funny comebacks.
“Anyways, I saw this ad about donating miracles and it just sort of clicked, you know? No, you don't know. Well, it clicked for me. Pretty simple really. Like you go to sleep, they take all they can, give whatever to whoever, and you just don't wake up. People - kids mostly - want to live. They just need a little something so they can. Well, I've got what they need. And since I don't want to anymore, they can have it all.
“You don't want to what anymore?
"Live.”
Jeff couldn't hide his shock. He leaned in again. “Is this a joke? 'Cause if it is, it's a little sick.”
Amber shook her head. “No joke, Jeff. True story.” She glanced out the big window. “In fact...I think that's my ride.”
“You're ride? What the heck, Amber! How can you do this? This isn't even legal.”
“It's legal. Lots of new changes in healthcare. It's like suicide for a good cause, right? Besides, it's my life. I'm eighteen, remember?”
They watched a small, white panel van pull into the parking lot. The driver maneuvered it into an open space and parked keeping the engine running. Amber scooted out of the booth and stood. Jeff followed her lead. She looked up at Jeff as though framing the moment to treasure in her broken heart.
“I wanted to spend my last hour with my only friend in the world. He was half an hour late - again. I'm like a ghost already. I might as well be a real one while making others happy at the same time. I was always good at multitasking.”
Jeff reached out to her, but froze when Amber shook her head. He watched her take a step back, then another, as the hands he never held slipped into the shadow of her pockets. Then she turned and walked out the door to the idling van.
The sliding door opened for the quiet girl. She talked briefly with someone inside, then pulled out something from her jeans' pocket and showed the driver. A moment later, Amber stepped inside the white van and closed the door.
She never looked back.