Hope - Levy, Marc (web ebook reader .TXT) 📗

to come on down and sort this mess out? For two thousand years now, he’s just been chilling out, but he never finished what he began. He’s been on early retirement. War, famine, natural catastrophes, crazy people, and trust me, there are loads of them around, even among his faithful followers. So while it’s okay to weigh us down with the burden and accuse us of our sins, he should be honest enough to follow through with his creation. Is God good? Is God just? So good and just that half his believers kill each other in his name? Why don’t you ask your Father who art in heaven why kids, or girls my age, get tumors? It’s too easy to just tell us he works in mysterious ways, and it’s not a big deal if we don’t understand them. But it is a big deal!” Hope was getting into her stride. “What possible reason could there be for dying before you’ve even lived? The gods get drunk on our blood. So you can tell him that I’ll believe in him when he starts believing in me. And amen to that!”

Brother Sebastian was speechless, and the entire congregation remained silent. Somewhere from the back of the church, applause started as Kasuko began to clap under Luke’s spellbound gaze. Hope stood and walked out of the church with her head held high.

“You were incredible,” Luke said, opening the Camaro’s door.

“I was a moron, but you know what? It felt good. Let’s go and get that pizza.”

14

Night after night, Hope continued her sessions at the Center. Luke and Josh noticed that every day, she seemed a little worse. No days passed without a migraine, each one with more and more dizziness and shrinking vision.

In early November, crippled by the pain, she finally gave in and accepted the drugs that Dr. Berger had prescribed. In the same month came two short stays in the hospital, from which she emerged exhausted.

When she wasn’t at the Center, she spent most of her days sleeping.

Josh stopped going to class. He preferred to stay with her, lying across the bed and holding her hand.

On the days when she felt stronger, she would drag herself into the living room and sit by the window, turning on Josh’s laptop to check how much money they had raised. They still needed $30,000, and considering the amount of time she thought she had left to live, Hope realized that she wouldn’t be able to go ahead with the cryotherapy after all.

She closed the website tab once and for all, but before she did, she asked Josh to write out a last message, which she dictated to him.

Dear Unknown Friends,

Thank you so much for all the supportive messages you sent me. They brightened my days, and your generosity has touched me more than anything. You are incredible human beings, and I really wish I could have met you all. I’ve given this a lot of thought, and if I weren’t dying, I would never have had the chance to even know you exist. It just goes to show that there are always wonderful things waiting around the corner, even in the darkest moments.

Soon, I won’t be able to update you on Bart as I’ve been doing these past few weeks. For a few days now, he’s been stopping me from using my left arm and leg.

I am now only half a person, a right-hand half. But Josh tells me that my right was always my good side. Josh isn’t exactly objective, but he was kind enough to write this message out for me, so I can’t judge him too harshly.

We haven’t managed to hit our funding target, but as my oncologist says, we can’t lose hope. Although that’s a classic oncologist’s lie.

I could tell you all sorts of crap about how essential it is to make every day count, but I’m going to spare you all that. The only really true thing is the importance of feeling alive, and that means keeping hold of your ability to feel wonder. And that happens every time I look at Josh out of my right eye. Before, I felt wonder through both eyes. But I promise you, one is all you need.

Yesterday, we looked at the photos we’ve taken since we first met. We looked at them in reverse order; traveling back in time photo by photo, we became carefree. You have the power to decide how you handle life’s knocks. You can feel cynical, angry, or resigned. We chose to handle it with humor.

Dear friends, although I will never meet you in any way other than through our screens, I will always keep you in my heart, whether that heart turns to dust or ice.

You are incredible people, and it was a privilege to have virtually known you.

I wish you a wonderful life.

Hope, yours for all eternity.

Despite himself and the whole situation, Josh took a quick look at the crowdfunding page the next day, a habit he’d gotten into. An anonymous donation had been made, covering the entire outstanding amount, and when Josh rushed to tell Hope, she couldn’t believe her right eye.

At first, they thought it had to be a mistake. Someone must have entered the wrong amount, and the donor would surely soon be in touch, asking them to correct the error. Josh even called the company responsible for transferring the funds, spending hours on the phone, demanding to speak to a manager, only to be told that it was true—some generous soul had fully funded Hope’s passport to eternity.

Josh bought a wheelchair, and every day, he took Hope for a stroll through the neighborhood. When they passed by Alberto’s store, he would wave.

One Sunday, they ventured as far as the flea market, and Hope spotted a little ring she asked Josh to buy for her.

That evening, they held a makeshift wedding, inviting no one but their closest friends. Luke and Kasuko were the