The Believing Game (19 page)

“What is it? Is it cancer?”

“We'll meet with the doctors when we go back. They've urged me to bring you in so they can explain it all. I told them that my son” — Joshua's voice rang out clearly on the word
son
and Addison started weeping all over again — “I said that my son is so smart. He'll be able to understand all the lingo that I'm too ignorant to absorb. I'll need that from you.” Addison nodded.

Joshua looked around. “I have struggled my whole life, been beaten and scarred. Tread on. But I have also inflicted damage on myself. With alcohol. Narcotics.” Joshua enunciated each syllable of the word so that it sounded like
nar-COT-ics
. “And now my body has turned on me. My blood platelets are attacking healthy cells.”

“That sounds like leukemia,” I said.

“Elizabeth, you are so powerful, but you are not a doctor.”

“Of course not, I'm sorry.” Addison still wouldn't look at me. “What can we do to help? I mean, logistical stuff?”

“Look at what a gift she is to me.” He beckoned me and I knelt by the chair. “Addison will help by meeting with my team of doctors. I will work as long as I can, but there may come a time when my body just gives out. It embarrasses me to ask, but —”

“Anything you need, man,” Jared spoke up. “We've got a lot of resources to pool between us. We'll take care of you.”

“That's the kind of love that stuns me.” Joshua closed his eyes and nodded to himself. “That's it. I don't know why I
thought for a second that you all would abandon me.” He sobbed into his own hand. “I apologize for my doubts. You know, people see how much I support you all. The hours and hours, the immense energy …” Addison nodded tearfully. “I tell them — these kids are my heart. They are my children. We sustain each other. No one else is willing to play the believing game for you all. This, this outpouring would shame them. Your generosity would silence them.”

I rose and took stock of the room. We all seemed to be standing up straighter. Addison had finally come forward, but he bypassed me and moved right to Joshua's side. I remember chastising myself for noticing that. Telling myself that it wasn't the time to selfishly wonder if my boyfriend was mad at me.

And Joshua wouldn't be the only one who needed me in all this. Addison faced the prospect of losing the most important person in his life. I promised myself to support him no matter what. I heard them whispering behind me.

“Tell me more about these doctors,” Addison prodded.

I moved away then and went to work cleaning up the kitchen. A few hours before, I'd been trying to convince Addison to skip town and maybe send a letter later. Had he listened to me, we would have snuck off without knowing about Joshua's condition. “Someone should check on Hannah,” I announced to the room, but what I really meant was
Look at me, Addison, I'm trying to be that best version of myself for you.

Hannah didn't answer when I knocked, but the door pushed open when I leaned on it. She'd already showered and combed out her hair. It seemed a little odd that we hadn't heard her walking around. When I stepped into the room
then, I realized it had its own bath. I could still see the steam. She must have just gotten dressed.

“I didn't realize this room had a bath,” I said. Hannah sat in a little rocking chair by the window. She turned to me as if I'd made the most inane comment she'd heard. In light of everything, it might have been. “Usually the master has the bath.” Silence. “I don't mean to say that we should have had this room — our room is lovely. Not that your room shouldn't be lovely.” Hannah Green kept staring at me. “I'm sorry,” I said, trying to start over. “Joshua told us.”

That earned a gasp. I went on. “I feel so awful that you had to deal with that on your own. I wish I'd have known. I would have helped. Even just moral support.” The more I talked, the more uncomfortable Hannah looked. “We're all going to help from here on out. Once we get back to McCracken Hill, we'll work out a schedule or something so that he's taken care of.” Hannah slowly stopped rocking. “We'll take turns.”

“What are you talking about, Greer?”

I figured that maybe she knew more of the details. Maybe she was in shock.

“Joshua told us about his illness.” She pursed her lips together. “He said he had some kind of episode last night and you took care of him.” Hannah seemed to consider that carefully and then she nodded. She went back to rocking in the chair. “It must have been really scary.”

“I thought it was just an asthma attack or allergies.” She looked down at her hands. “But Joshua said it's much more serious.”

“It sounds like it.”

“Do you think he's dying?” she asked in her strange, flat voice. As if she didn't care about the outcome either way.

“I guess we'll get more information soon. Addison's going to meet with his doctors. I thought it sounded like leukemia, but I guess not?” I looked at Hannah, waiting for her to volunteer an opinion. “The two of them are having a powwow down there now. Joshua told us you needed your rest. But are you hungry? Do you want breakfast?”

“Why do you like to feed everyone so much?” Hannah asked in her abrupt way.

“You know, when we got here, Joshua gave us all jobs. I get to be cook.” I said it in a joking way, but Hannah didn't laugh or even smile. “I guess I took it kind of seriously.”

“I think you like to feed us because that helps you feel like you deserve to eat too.” I made sure not to grimace, remembering what Joshua had said about Hannah's blunt way of talking. If Sophie had said it, I wouldn't have gotten angry.

“Maybe. That makes sense.”

“It doesn't really.” God. Hannah certainly didn't make it easy.

“I meant that your interpretation makes sense to me. I see how that could be true.”

“What's my job this weekend?”

Acting really bizarre and making everyone feel uncomfortable.

But I didn't say that. Instead I said, “It seems like your job has been comforting Joshua.”

She snorted a little. Like some kind of dainty, wild pony. “Yeah. That makes sense.”

“Hannah, are you angry at me about something?”

“Why would you even ask that?”

“You just seem … I don't know. You've kind of had your own thing going on this weekend. But I hope you haven't felt like I've been excluding you from anything. Addison and I … well — this weekend was special to us. I mean, it was supposed to be. I'm just sorry that we didn't all get a chance to spend more time together.”

Hannah stopped rocking again. She stared up at me and her tiniest smile emerged. “You really love him.”

“Yeah.” I wasn't quite sure how Addison felt about me right then but I didn't say that. “I didn't mean for this whole weekend to be about that, though.”

“No, we did a lot. We learned a lot.” Hannah's voice kind of cracked then.

“Are you sure you're okay?”

“What's it going to be like back at school?”

“After this? I'm not sure. Probably a little intense. But we'll have each other, you know? We'll all have to remember that and reach out when we need something.” She nodded and turned her gaze out the window. Outside the pine trees stretched high up against the mountains. “Come on downstairs so that I can feed you, okay? It'll improve my self-worth.”

I made Hannah a cheese-and-toast and scrubbed the rest of the dishes. “Sophie, should we strip the beds?”

“Will we have enough time to run a load of laundry?”

I looked back at Joshua and Addison, still deep in conversation by the fire. “I think so. We're not due back on campus until dinner.”

She handled the sheets from the beds she and Jared had pushed together. And I went upstairs to her parents' room. I was just rolling all our linens up into a big ball, when I heard her calling quietly, but frantically, “Greer! Greer!”

I found her in the guest room. “What?”

She had pulled back the quilt from the bed. Beneath lay a bare, tufted mattress. I didn't get it. “What's the problem?”

Sophie stared at me. “Where are the sheets?”

“Well, don't go all crazy about it. I'm sure if he was so uncomfortable, he would have mentioned it.”

“No, there were sheets. I checked.”

“Sophie, relax.” I stepped out onto the landing. “Hey, Hannah.” She looked up. “Where are the sheets?”

“What sheets?”

“From the bed? Upstairs.”

Hannah paused. She looked toward Joshua. He appeared riveted by whatever Addison was saying. He didn't even raise his eyes. Hannah said, “I washed them.”

“Oh. Are they in the machine?”

“I washed them in the tub.”

“What?” Sophie went back to check the bathroom. “You didn't have to do that, Hannah. That must have taken forever.” She emerged carrying the wet linens.

Hannah had rushed toward the stairs. “I'm so sorry. I didn't know you had a washer.” She looked panicked. “If I've ruined them, I'll replace them.”

Joshua finally glanced up. Addison shot me a look, like
Seriously?
I lowered my voice to a whisper. “I'm sure it's fine. Let's just get everything in the wash so that they can dry together.” Hannah looked like she was edging toward tears. I put my hand on her shoulder. “It's really no big deal.”

Sophie laughed. “You're making Greer look bad, though. She's trying to show off her housewife skills and here you are, playing pioneer woman.” She showed us the laundry room
and Hannah loaded everything into the washer. Sophie stood in front of a closet, staring at shelves of flannel sheets.

“Maybe we should just make the beds now?”

“Yeah, but what if your parents make the trip up? Won't your mom notice the difference?”

Sophie just said, “No. They're not coming back here.”

“We might not either,” Hannah volunteered. We looked at her. “If Joshua dies.”

 

It wasn't until we were packing up that Addison and I had a moment alone together. I was putting the sheets back on our bed when he popped his head into the doorway to ask if I'd seen his phone.

I couldn't stop myself. “So you're speaking to me now?” I said. “Because you can't find something?”

He stepped back. “Greer — seriously. Please don't fight with me now.”

“You haven't spoken to me. All morning. Since I came downstairs and started prepping breakfast, all happy that we'd —” I didn't know how to put it. And I didn't want to embarrass myself any more than I already had by whining.
We just had sex and now you're ignoring me.
It was, after all, the same old story.

So I tried to maintain some dignity. “I'm sorry if I pushed earlier. I wasn't thinking clearly. But I also didn't expect that as soon as we actually slept together …”

“Of course not.” Addison spoke in his same old earnest way. “Jesus, Greer. I'm the asshole. Seriously. That's not what I meant.” He stepped closer to me and reached out his arms, but I ducked away. “I'm sorry.” I watched him warily. “I wish
we'd never come downstairs this morning, but when we did. Well, when I did, I just —” Addison choked back sobs again. “I had no idea he was sick, Greer. And I don't know what I'd do without him.”

I'm not a monster. By then Addison was full-on crying. Huge, wracking sobs that shook his whole body. I wrapped my arms around him and whispered in his ear that Joshua would be okay, we'd figure it out. I told him I knew he had to devote himself to helping Joshua get well and I'd help in any way I could. And in the meantime, I'd wait for him. We'd found something incredible between us. Miraculous. Nothing would interfere with us. But right now we had other obligations. And we wouldn't let something amazing like finding each other interfere with fulfilling those either.

Slowly, Addison went from weeping in my arms to nuzzling at my neck. I kissed his eyes and his face before his mouth. And then, once we got really swept up in kissing and pressing and craning toward each other, we tangled up the sheets of the bed I'd just made.

We treated each other less gently in the morning. Maybe because the sunlight streamed in through the gauzy curtains and there was no point in acting bashful about our bodies. Maybe because the whole house was awake, creaking with footsteps. We heard doors slamming and occasional laughter.

I guess I was trying to console him. But there was something else. At some point, Addison whispered, “We should try to be quiet.” And I nodded and then pretended to find that impossible to manage. Just a little. And I resolved to make sure that Addison needed to yell out also. I could make him forget for a few minutes. Just like earlier that morning, when Joshua had fixed it so that Addison hardly recalled
how he felt about me. I could work my own miracles. Or maybe we would call it
creating a circle of belief
. If anyone called us on inappropriate timing, I'd argue that Addison and I chose a life-affirming activity. So I threw back my head and celebrated. Loudly. And I remember hoping that, down the hall, Joshua would hear.

At about quarter after two, we loaded up the car and bid farewell to the site of what Jared called
our first summit of strange superpowers
. He said it as he climbed in the van, and Joshua responded by saying, “If you're going to mock our calling, you're welcome to take a thousand sarcastic steps home.”

“What?” Poor Jared looked genuinely confused. “No. I just — I thought we needed something catchy. No joke, Joshua. Brother,” he tried.

Joshua surprised me by saying, “Brothers, sisters — I seek your forgiveness. I made myself vulnerable to you this morning and that's difficult for me. This might have been one of the best weekends of my life. I can't think of another time that I've felt less alone. That's saying a lot, considering what I'm about to face. Each one of you is beautiful. Each of you has a superpower. You're absolutely right about that, Brother Jared.”

Jared looked up, but didn't speak. Wes called out from the seat in the way back. “Where did we go anyway? What town will we say? You know, for Habitat for Humanity?”

Joshua had already prepped answers. It turns out that we had worked on a one-story, three-bedroom house for a single mom in Milford, Pennsylvania, named Charlene Ebberts. We felt as if the experience really bonded us, and we hoped to
return to the area, both to check on Ms. Ebberts and her two little boys and to help with other projects in the area. Addison and Jared had really excelled at drywall work, but next time, they hoped to help install the kitchen.

As we coasted down the highway and rehearsed our cover story, I started to feel the first flickers of nervousness. Not for the first time, it occurred to me that Joshua's grip on reality was tenuous at best. No one actually saw him talk to the dean. He pulled up the van. We all climbed in and left. What if he'd never said anything at all? I pictured bed checks, then search parties, tense phone calls with my parents. We'd been gone two full days, so if McCracken Hill had sounded the alarm, my parents — my father at least — had probably driven up by now.

Addison kept turning around in his seat, smiling at me. He was trying at least. It's not like I'd have to do the walk of shame back to my dorm, feeling completely used and discarded. He didn't seem worried, but Addison didn't worry about what most people thought. Just Joshua.

Wes stared out the window. He stayed quiet after pressing us to get our stories straight, as if he didn't know any of us at all.

Sophie lay down in the seat behind me, dozing, with her head on Jared's lap. Hannah sat next to me but felt farthest away. She held her book on her lap, but kept it closed. Once in a while, I caught her eyes wandering out the window, but mostly she sat there, staring at the back of Joshua's headrest.

“Elizabeth, I feel your restlessness.” When Joshua noticed, it only made me more antsy. Like maybe he knew I had a reason to worry.

“I don't want to go back.”

“Where? Connecticut? Or McCracken Hill?”

I thought about it for second. “Neither. I'd rather start off somewhere completely new.” Addison looked over his shoulder at me, reached back behind his armrest, and grabbed my leg. I couldn't tell if his squeeze was affection or warning.

“Oh, you can never start somewhere totally new, Elizabeth. You will always drag yourself along with you.”

 

We turned into the lower lot a little after four thirty. By then I felt sick. My stomach churned and my hands shook. I felt so certain that the whole security detail would surround us as soon as we stepped onto the lot. I don't know how I survived getting in trouble all the time, back home. Somewhere along the way, McCracken had drilled away my ability to not care. Losing privileges, going back to lockdown, and no liquids in my dorm room seemed like the worst possibilities in the world.

We parked without incident, though. The lot stretched empty, except for two other school vans and a few teacher vehicles. Above us, the sky was just going gray, on its way to evening. I turned back to watch Jared wake up Sophie by kissing her temple, then looked up to see Addison watching me. Sophie wailed when she sat up and saw where we were. It was seriously the baldest expression of pain she'd ever shared in my presence. Even Hannah stepped up. She patted Sophie's back awkwardly and cooed, “It's going to be fine. Remember, we said we all stick together back here. This weekend just began so many things.” Hannah checked with me for confirmation.

“Exactly,” I said. “We all help each other adjust back to real life.”

Sophie cried harder. “This isn't real life.”

I looked at Jared and nudged her. “Sure, it is.” And then lower, so that only she could hear, “Don't freak him out. Hold it together until we get back to the dorm.”

“I want to say one last thing.” Joshua motioned for us to circle up.

It was the perfect time for him to say, “Just kidding about the war with the militant vegans.” Or, “I'm sorry, Greer, you're no longer in the running to be our mission's next guardian angel.”

Instead Joshua told us, “One of you will betray us. I've been praying over it, but it's not to be avoided. When the time comes, we will mark that loss and mourn it in a fitting way. The rest of you will not judge the one who abandons us. Reserve your judgment for yourselves. Have I made myself clear?”

Of course I assumed he was talking about me. Maybe all of us thought Joshua could see right into our souls and watch our devious little minds plotting. We all stared at our feet. Except Addison. I peeked to see that he held Joshua's gaze, although he did keep swallowing.

“We had a beautiful time, but our bodies are so tired from the physical labor. Go take hot showers. At dinner tonight, talk about Charlene Ebberts. Bring her to life. We'll need to speak soon. Addison, you and I will need to speak very soon. My treatment will start almost immediately. Remember, all of you — the dean will probably seek you out. I convinced her to take a risk on us. She will want to know that it paid off. Give her what she asks for.”

“You're not coming through the gate with us?”

“What are you afraid of, Elizabeth?”

I made myself take a deep breath. “I have no idea.”

“You are the one among us who is untouchable. The best of you is locked up in a room, many years away. What could you lose?”

“Always with the cheerful reassurance, Joshua.” Wes stepped forward. “C'mon, Greer — we'll walk back together.” He didn't even look at Addison before he asked me. “Just keep walking,” he muttered under his breath.

“What are you doing?” It felt like I was being torn away from the group. My chest ached. “Seriously. He's going to get angry.”

“He's had his fifteen-minute farewell speech already.” Wes turned around and walked backward beside me. He cupped his hands around his mouth to call out, “Thanks, guys. I'm so glad we did this. And so happy we helped that lady! See you at dinner, okay?”

I trotted alongside Wes, trying to keep up, but still checking back to see if Addison had reacted.

“Don't worry, he's still back there. They're probably predicting which one of us will be the One to Commit the Ultimate Betrayal.” He used his fake movie-trailer voice. I slowed down my pace, but just as I fell behind, Wes said, “He took a page right out of the Jesus Christ playbook. I can't believe it. Have none of you gone to CCD?” I stared blankly at him, but walked faster to catch up and listen. “It's the Last Supper. Christ says, ‘One of you will betray me.' And sure enough, Judas steps up to the plate and sells out Jesus. So that's great. Joshua can keep playing his mind games. Now if one of us doesn't buy into this bullshit, we equate ourselves with Judas Iscariot.”

“I never knew Judas had a last name.”

Wes stared at me. “I bet the other guys named Judas insisted that he use it after that whole mess.”

“What happened to Judas?”

“How do you not know this?”

“I'm not really religious.”

I didn't really care what happened to Judas Iscariot. I wanted to know what would happen to me.

Wes seemed to understand that. He broke the news carefully. “Judas hanged himself.” I stopped walking and turned back to the loosely gathered ring of our friends on the other end of the parking lot. “Greer. No one is Judas. We're all good people. Most of us, including Joshua, are a little screwed up. I'm not really sure what's going on with Addison, but maybe someone needs to go to the administration for him.”

“What are you talking about?”

“We live together, Greer. I don't know how the hell he managed to swing keeping a cell phone, but Joshua calls him on it three, four times a night. Addison hasn't had a decent night's sleep in months. And now he's going to take responsibility for nursing Joshua through whatever illness he has. You know, they talk as if the Bradleys feel such gratitude toward Joshua, but then why don't we see Addison's parents around? Why doesn't Addison get in contact with his parents first thing for help with whatever Joshua's facing?”

“We don't know that he won't. His parents have their hands full with Chuckie. You know? That's why he's here.”

“No, Greer. He's here because he needs to be. That's why all of us are here. Believe me, this place is pricey. My parents remind me of that every time they call for family session. And if the Bradleys aren't loaded, and it sounds like they're not, they have to feel like this is necessary for him. Hell, if his insurance is footing even a fraction of the bill, they have to certify he needs help.”

“But he's allowed to roam around town. And sign in late.”

“We all are,” Wes said incredulously. “When's the last time anyone really gave you a hard time about signing back in or lights-out? Or anything even remotely close to a hard time? Jesus, you had Joshua sleep over in your room. A grown man. They're monitoring us so closely, but they somehow failed to pick up on that.”

Wes looked back to the van. The whole group had turned to face us. I don't know what they thought was going on. But I could tell that we'd hear about it later on. We both knew that. Wes spoke faster, as if trying to finish what he needed to tell me before someone stopped him. “I don't necessarily agree with the decision to ship any of us away. But I look at someone like Hannah, who has obvious problems, right? You see that. She'd get devoured in a typical high school. Even you. You're working on things. But how close were you to being hospitalized for eating disorders? Or being charged for shoplifting? Seriously? Or answering some crazy Craigslist ad, trying to be badass and, instead, ending up on the side of some road? I'm not preaching. You know I'm owning up to my shit.”

Wes gauged the distance we'd put between ourselves and the group before saying, “Addison isn't. He struts around here like he's the skinny counselor at fat camp. I think it's Joshua who's interfering. And if we cared about Addison, we'd stop worrying so much about the opinions of some sicko. We'd find a way to get him some real help.”

“He's not drinking,” I protested. “He's not using.”

“He's also not living in reality, Greer. The only difference is he's bringing everyone else along.”

“If we go after Joshua, he'll never forgive us.”

“I can live with that. I care about the guy. I'm not going to let him live a lie just so we can have slumber parties in the Poconos.”

It was the first time anyone had used the word
lie
to describe the situation happening around us. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Addison coming toward us. He strode as if he wanted to close the gap between us quickly, but without running.

“I love Addison.” When I said it, I knew I was closing a door. And I could tell by the resigned look that washed over Wes's face that I didn't have to actually tell him anything else. If I forced myself to keep talking, I might have really confessed. I'd have said,
I love Addison and all I have to do to keep him is believe in this one thing.

Wes heard all that without my saying it. And it was lucky I didn't actually say it aloud because Addison broke into a jog and reached us right away, probably before I would have finished explaining.

“What's going on?” Addison's eyes went gray and flinty, and flicked toward me.

Wes said, “I was just sharing my concerns about you with Greer.”

“Yeah?” Addison tilted his head to me.

“About how you're dealing with this morning and Joshua's news,” I finished, hoping Wes would go along. “We just figured that between the two of us, we'd make sure you didn't have to be alone if you didn't want. I know you bottle everything up — I don't mean
bottle
like liquor — it's just that you're always taking care of everyone else.” I babbled uncontrollably until Addison held up his hand.

“Greer, stop.” I waited, wondering how it felt to be hit by
someone as strong as Addison. Not thinking he'd do it. Not really. Just wondering if he could shatter my face if he tried. But Addison's face softened and he said, “Guys, I'm so lucky. You really bless me. God, I'm such an asshole. I had myself all riled up for a second there.”

Wes stared at me and nodded at Addison. “You know we care, man. That's all. We'll do whatever it takes.” He backed away. “I'm going to let you walk Greer back to her dorm. I want to shower before I stink up dinner.”

“See you later.” Addison nodded at him. “And, hey — thanks. It means a lot.”

“No worries.”

We stood there watching Wes walk away. Addison had wrapped his arm tightly around my waist. “You're really something. I had myself convinced …” He shook the thought away.

“You did? Or did someone else convince you?”

“Settle down, there, sporto.” I was only acting outraged, though, and it didn't serve me well to follow that conversation to its conclusion. So I hung my arms around Addison's neck and tipped my head back to kiss him. When I came up for air, I squinted back to see Joshua still standing by the school van, hands on his hips, staring at us.